


To Be King

by Nazrath



Series: The King Chronicles [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Gen, Humor, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-04-20 14:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 78,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4790450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nazrath/pseuds/Nazrath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years after the Promised Day, Ed suddenly collapses in the library, being afflicted with the same illness as his mother. But the illness has more problems than it meets the eye and the roots of it's origin can very well start another war. Why did Trisha Elric die? What was the "other" reason for Hohenheim leaving? Does Father continue to trouble Amestris even after his death? And who's after Ling's life. Cause being a King is never easy...<br/>(Originally published in fanfiction.net)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ante Meridien

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there!  
> I am Nazrath and am new to AO3. I have posted this fic (last chapter is yet to be uploaded) at FFN when one of my readers gave me this awesome idea of posting this fic here too. I have browsing around AO3 for a couple of days as I was waiting to receive my invite and boy oh boy, I am in love with this place!  
> I guess I am going to be posting fics regularly here!
> 
> This fic is yet to undergo a complete edit so if you guys find any typo/error, please do point it out so that I can get it checked and removed when I (finally) get down to grunge work.
> 
> Reviews awaited!

**PRESENT DAY**

**MILITARY HOSPITAL, CENTRAL COMMAND**

Alphonse Elric was rarely angry.

Scratch that. He was  _never_ angry.

But the nineteen-year-old young man who stood in front of the doctor, cheeks flushed, hair askew and clothes in a general sense of disarray looked anything but peaceful.

"Are you telling me doctor," he said in a deathly quiet voice, "that you have  _no idea_?"

His hands shook as the bangs hid the molten amber eyes—the eyes same as his older brother. The eyes same as the one who lay on the hospital bed in the room beyond a nondescript door.

"You have  _no idea what is afflicting Edward Elric?"_  he ended the latter part in a heart-broken squeak.

"I am sorry, Mr. Elric. The disease which ails your brother is not something very common. In fact, I am under the assumption that your mother is the only documented case of this particular disease. Rest assured, I will try my very best. But I cannot afford to give you false hope," the doctor sighed, pushing aside the younger Elric gently as he went to see another patient.

Al slumped on a nearby metal chair, the fight leaving his limbs. It has been five years since the Promised Day, five years since he got his body back. Everything should have ended with the Promised Day, hell, what else does Truth/Fate/World/White Grinning Maniac want from his brother? Hadn't he paid enough for the sole mistake of trying to bring mom back?

He buried his head in his hands...why can't they have a bit of normalcy in their lives?

* * *

_**4 HOURS EARLIER** _

" _So Al, how about a visit to the library? For old times' sake?" Ed suggested as the brothers ambled down the well-traversed lanes of Central._

" _Can't see why not," Al replied, looking up at the April sky. "Maybe we can say hello to Sheska as we visit. It's been a long time since I have had a chat with her."_

" _Sheska's got transferred to Western Command, didn't you know that?" Ed said as they took a turn which brought them right in front of the library._

" _Seriously? Was that a..." Al began before Ed interjected._

" _It wasn't a demotion...rather, she got promoted! She's a part of the Investigation Department of Western Command—apparently, some thugs are running loose so their department was short on man-power. And you know how much stuff is crammed in her head...as far as the rumours go, she's having the time of her life," he said as they began to climb up the steps._

" _Sheska got promoted, huh...that's nice," Al said, happy for their bespectacled bookworm friend. "She's helped us out a lot, brother."_

" _Damn right, Al."_

_The librarian was pleased to see her old patrons visiting and waved them in._

" _Hey Al, I am going up to the second floor—there's this book on Milosian Alchemy I need to check out," Ed said, walking towards the staircase._

" _Okay brother, I am down here in the alkahestry section. Maybe I can suggest the librarian to include some more books on that subject," Al replied._

_It felt nice to see those worn bookshelves again, as if meeting an old friend. Two years of rehabilitation in Resembool followed by three years in Xing, he realised it had been a long time since he last visited Central. He ran down his finger over the spines of the books, thinking with a grin of how frustrated they were when they came in here to research alkahestry and found next to none books about it. But now, a credible space has been allotted to the subject, clearly Ling wasn't so secretive about alkahestry as the previous Xing's emperor. He saw a book which had been planning to read for a long time but didn't actually get to. He excitedly slid it out and went over to their favourite table at the back of the hall._

_He was so engrossed in reading that he didn't realize almost an hour had passed. As he turned the page to begin a new chapter, he checked his watch._

" _Is brother again reading sitting in-between shelves?" he wondered, placing the book on the table and going upstairs. Knowing Ed, he knew his brother tended to forget the world when presented with a good book._

_The second floor had books on specialized subjects and mostly state alchemists who were researching on obscure subjects tended to come up here. Hence at present, it was empty._

" _Brother..." Al called out hesitatingly, unwilling to disturb the quietness of the library._

" _Hey brother...are you sitting on the floor again?" he called out._

_There wasn't any answer but Al wasn't expecting any. The building could catch fire and he wouldn't even register it._

_Al looked at the passages, sometimes stopping when a book caught his eye. As he walked over to the end of the hall, he saw books with strange symbols over their spines._

" _These must be the books on Milosian alchemy—at least, they aren't the symbols from the alchemy and alkahestry I know," he mused as walked between the shelves. Then the sight he next saw made him go pale with terror._

_Ed was sprawled over the floor, his golden hair in sharp contrast with the dark wood floor. Books lay around him in a mess—apparently he was carrying them when he fell. Al ran up to his brother, quickly checking his pulse. It was faint, erratic. His skin was cold, yet cheeks were flushed. His face was covered in a thin film of sweat._

_He was looking...just like...mom..._

_Al quickly unfroze, lifting Ed over his back and ran down the steps. The librarian looked shocked at the duo._

" _Ed's fainted, I will get him to the hospital," Al called back._

_He hailed a cab and quickly bundled in._

" _Ed will be okay...Ed will be okay..." he kept on chanting as the cab raced to the hospital._

* * *

"Al!"

"Alphonse!"

"Hey Al! Wake up!"

Al woke up with a jump and then groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. He had fallen asleep in a bad position on the chair and cricked his neck as a result.

He turned a bleary eye over his surroundings as the gears in his head brought his body up to speed with his predicament.

_Oh God Ed!_

"How is Fullmetal, Alphonse?"

Al focused his eyes to make out the blue uniform of the man standing in front of him before his heart plummeted into his stomach.

Brigadier General Mustang!

How would he ever explain Ed's condition to him?

Before he could open his mouth, the doctor in charge of Ed came up to them. Al realized that Major Hawkeye and Lieutenant Havoc had accompanied Mustang and were presently standing across the corridor next to the door of Ed's room.

"Brigadier General Mustang, I presume?" said the doctor, bowing his head in the General's direction. Mustang nodded affirmatively.

"I will be frank; Major Elric's condition is no good. And I think that losing the ability to perform alchemy has worsened it—from what I have gathered till now, his alchemy acted as a deterrent, keeping the illness at bay. But now, with no obstacles, the illness has got up on its feet so to speak."

Al looked devastated at the news—no no  _no_! Not again! His brother lost his arm once to transmute his soul, now he's on the verge of dying just so he could eat quiche again?

Al felt a warm palm on his shaking shoulders—it was Mustang.

"Get that stupid thought out of your head this instant, Alphonse!" he roared. Al gave him a puzzled look.

"Don't give me that look...I know you two brothers very well—so eager to feel guilty that you admonish yourself for something that wasn't your fault to begin with," he continued, though he brought down his voice a couple of notches. Hawkeye came up to the duo, a motherly smile on her face.

"The General's correct, Al," she said gently. "Don't blame yourself—just be glad you were there when Ed collapsed. Think what would have happened if you weren't there...he wouldn't have got help for  _days_..."

Al looked up at the two adults he trusted most apart from Granny.

"Yeah, I guess you have a point, Major," he sighed as his trembling came to a stop. Mustang sat on a chair next to him.

"Tell me what you two have been doing since the Promised Day. Maybe we can find a clue there."

**End of Chapter 01**


	2. Lullaby of Resembool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some references to the country and the people Ed and Al met in the movie "The Sacred Star of Milos". There's nothing you would need to know beforehand as I will explain the mentions in the story itself.

**5 YEARS PRIOR TO THE PRESENT DAY, TWO MONTHS AFTER THE PROMISED DAY**

**RESEMBOOL, AMESTRIS**

> **Dear Diary**
> 
> It feels odd writing a diary but Brother won't listen to me—he read somewhere and apparently Sheska too supported the fact that writing down my emotions would make me feel better. But why do they not  _understand_...I am  _already_ better. I got my body back and my strength too is returning. Though Brother still won't let me carry heavy objects or do anything strenuous, I can feel the muscles of my limbs getting stronger. Then I get this giddy feeling—I have got my body back! I know it has been two months but it is yet to sink in. It's finally over.
> 
> I sometimes catch Brother clapping and placing his palms on the floor, no doubt attempting to perform alchemy. But Truth is certainly bitter—and I feel guilty. After all, I am still able to perform alchemy  _and_ I have all my limbs intact. Brother's left leg is still automail, though. He jokes about it, telling me Winry would get depressed if she couldn't fuss over him but I know better. Then, I don't feel happy at all.
> 
> Brother sometimes catches me having these mood swings, and gives me a sharp whack on my head—telling me to get such morbid thoughts out of my head. After the Promised Day, the very fact that we along with the ones we love escaped unscathed is something to be cherished and he didn't mind losing his alchemy.
> 
> He said it was his choice. And he did not regret it.
> 
> **Al**

* * *

"Ed! Al! Dinner is ready! And yeah, there's no milk!"

Al grinned at the pout on Ed's face as the four of them sat down at the table for dinner.

"Wow Granny! Chicken quiche, vegetable stirfry and apple pie! Smells heavenly!" Al exclaimed as he inhaled the aroma. He cherished the fact that he could smell at all, and refrained from taking things for granted. For someone who's fourteen, he sure grew up quickly.

"Keep inhaling and admiring while I clear up the dishes Al," Ed smirked, cutting up a piece of the quiche for himself.

"Hey! That's unfair, Brother! You know it is!"

"The last one loses a second helping of the pie!"

"You are cruel, Brother. I hate you."

"No you don't. You are just a sore loser, Al."

Winry couldn't help but giggle at the sight. She had waited so long to see them quarrel like this again.

"What'cha grinning at, Winry?" Ed asked, his mouth filled with quiche.

"Nothing Ed, nothing."

* * *

After dinner, Al saw Ed go up the roof. Having nothing else to do, he followed him. The older Elric was sprawled over the sloped roof, gazing at the skies as the stars twinkled merrily.

"Stargazing, Brother?" Al asked, lying down next to him.

"Of sorts...I missed these stars in Central," Ed said, a misty touch to his voice.

"Mom and Dad must be somewhere up there," Al suggested, stretching out his finger to draw the constellations.

"Yeah...I hope the old man's alright—I guess we owe him that much."

"Uh-huh. You are right, Brother. We do owe him that bit of happiness."

The brothers lay there in companionable silence for some time, reveling in the quiet and proximity to each other. Reveling in the fact that they do not have to rest with an ear perked up to register any sign of danger.

Some time later, Granny Pinako yelled at them to come in, saying they would catch colds or worse. Ed gave her a childish frown as he slid down the roof, muttering about how people hated minding their own businesses. That earned him a whack on the head from Granny and a wrench from Winry. Al laughed at the scene—for all the old or experienced Ed got, he still didn't lose the ability to piss people off.

As they climbed up their rooms, Ed asked in a soft voice.

"Hey Al, could you help me with something?"

Al looked puzzled; Ed rarely asked people for help.

"Um...sure. Why wouldn't I?"

They were standing at the door to their bedroom, Ed shuffling his foot while Al still stared at his brother in bewilderment.

"Um...don't laugh or anything otherwise I will knock you out cold...but the thing is...I think...er...no, no, I don't  _think,_ I know...well, at least I  _think_  I know...I guess you know too..." Ed began babbling, making Al's eyes go round in slight alarm.

"Ed, what's up? You are scaring me," the younger Elric said in a slightly alarmed voice.

"Al, I think I  _like_ Winry...a little..." Ed said quickly.

Al was shocked.

He froze in surprise.

Then one corner of his lips went up.

Followed by the other corner.

And then he muffled his mouth with his palms so that his roaring laughter wouldn't wake up the subject of discussion and her grandmother.

"Seriously Ed? After all this time? At least we should thank God you got over your oblivious phase and really accepted your feelings," Al grinned, laughter still shaking his frame.

Ed frowned at his laughing brother, huffing away in indignation.

"Now, that's not fair, Al," he pouted.

"Okay, Brother, I am just pulling your leg. Let's talk tomorrow morning."

* * *

**TWO YEARS AFTER THE PROMISED DAY, THREE YEARS BEFORE THE PRESENT DAY**

* * *

 

**RESEMBOOL, AMESTRIS**

"Propose?"

"Yep. I am finally going to tell her about my feelings."

Al rolled his eyes as he packed his suitcase. His strength had returned fully and he now looked a handsome sixteen-year-old boy on the cusp of adulthood. The rehabilitation had been successful and already he was raring to go out and explore the world. Al would be leaving for Xing while Ed was travelling to Creta and some parts of Drachma in search of what he termed as the Milosian Alchemy. Al remembered visiting the West once—the Table City where they got embroiled in the war between the Milosian refugees and Cretan army. They also had a couple of friends there.

Al would depart for Central first where he would join up with Jerzo and Zampano before departing for Xing. He patted his chest pocket—yep, the letter from Ling permitting him to visit the country was sitting there safely. A letter with the Emperor's seal would make border woes a breeze.

"About time, Brother. I was thinking that you are going to take your feelings to the grave."

Ed pouted at this.

"Seriously Al, where did you learn to be so snarky?" he asked.

"Company, Brother," Al shrugged, mischief gleaming in his eyes.

Ed looked positively livid.

"So Ed, wouldn't you be dropping by Central?" Al asked quickly in a bid to change the subject and finally shutting his suitcase.

"No, I don't think so. It would be an unnecessary detour—besides, Colonel Smartypants already sent the required documents by post, eliminating the need to stop over there," Ed shrugged, fishing about in his cupboard in search of his nightclothes.

Ed turned to give his brother a soft smile.

"Hey Al?"

"Hmm?"

"Take care, okay? It's the first time you would be going alone..."

"Ed!" Al said, a slight exasperation evident in his voice. "I am not alone—Jerzo and Zampano will be there with me. And besides, I did complete the journey from Briggs to Central on my own, didn't I? You worry about yourself—you don't have your alchemy to save you now."

Ed scratched his head, trying to figure out a witty retort.

"You got me, Al," he said sheepishly.

Al's face softened at Ed's sheepish look.

"You worry too much, Brother. Time you relaxed a bit."

* * *

Ed waved as Al's train disappeared in the horizon, jumping at the sudden sniffle next to him. To his alarm, Winry was crying.

"Winry..." he began, at loss as to what to say.

"I am not sad, Ed," she said quickly. "It's just that I am going to miss him."

Ed wrapped an arm around her shoulder, giving her a gentle squeeze.

"I will miss him too."

The duo walked back to the Rockbell house in silence which was broken by an occasional sniff from Winry. Ed felt a bit awkward—he wanted to hug her tight and yet was embarrassed to do so. And the ghost of that obnoxious wrench still preyed on his mind.

"Hey...um Winry..." Ed began as the house drew closer.

"I am fine, just give me a minute," she said, wiping away the tear-tracks from her face. Her cheeks were flushed as her eyes shone with unshed tears. He stood awkwardly on her side as she composed herself. He knew she didn't want Granny Pinako see her bawling her eyes out.

He permitted his lips to curve up in a small smile—they were more alike than they thought.

A sudden pain in his chest threatened to release a gasp from his mouth—but it was gone before he could contemplate it fully. He bore it down with a forced grin; these attacks were becoming more frequent as of late and he was secretly glad Al didn't know of this. Though he had a small idea about the reason, he needed to research more if he wanted some straight answers.

It was time he left Resembool.

As he followed Winry into the house, he found his conscience praying to all powers that be— _let this human live_.

* * *

"So, where are  _you_ going anyways?" Winry asked.

It was a week since Al left for Xing and if Ed believed the postcard, he was well and apparently happily received by the Xingese welcome council.

> _Dear Brother_
> 
> _I reached Xing safe and sound. The journey across the desert was a bit tiresome, all the more since I took a detour to visit the ruins of Xerxes—it was just the way you said, Brother. Amazing how such an advanced civilisation thrived some five centuries ago. Ling's really enthusiastic to have me here and is adamant that I accompany him on his visits throughout the country. Though I am not complaining—Xing is an amazing country. You should visit it, Brother._
> 
> _I met May yesterday—she's grown quite tall. She almost reaches to my shoulder now. And Xiao-Mei is cute as always and trusts me as much as she trusts Mei. Ling misses you and sends his hi. He's planning to visit Central by the end of this year for some diplomatic convention and wants to meet you if possible. Fun aside, he says it's serious. I don't know what 'cause he's not telling me._
> 
> _Did you confess to Winry yet? Tell me all about it._
> 
> _I miss you, Brother. Hope you are well. Say hi to Winry for me._
> 
> _Al_

"Al's having the time of his life in Xing, it seems," Ed said, staring away in space. "It's more to do with May, I guess. He thinks I am dense while I knew all along that he was crushing over that Ching girl."

Winry laughed lightly as she recalled the times she saw the Xingese princess and Al together. And how the girl used to be jealous of her camaraderie with Al.

"I see what you mean," she nodded, swinging her legs to and fro.

The duo was sitting on a bench in the Resembool station, waiting for Ed's train that would take him to West City.

"So, back to my original question. What are you planning to do, Ed?" she asked.

"For now, I will visit Milos and get in touch with a couple of my old friends. One of them has research notes on alchemy which is way different from our alchemy and Xingese alkahestry. Then after that, I am planning to go to Drachma—there are rumours of them practising some sort of remote-based alchemy. I have no idea about it so I will go and check it out," Ed replied, clenching and unclenching his right hand. The second line from the last in Al's postcard increased his nervousness ten-fold.

_Did you confess to Winry yet?_

What if she flat-out rejected him?

Made fun of him?

Or worse, hit him with that omnipresent wrench?

Blood drained from his face as he considered the last option.

"Ed, are you okay?" Winry asked, poking his pale cheeks.

Ed nodded absently. This was the last time he would be meeting Winry face-to-face in many months. He swallowed, willing himself to steel up. He had to do this.

The whistle and chugging followed by the familiar smell of burning coal announced the entry of the train.

"Train's here," he sighed heavily, standing up. He realised he was taller than Winry now which made him recall a really old discussion in the military dorms.

" _Hey Winry? You remember that fight Al and I had as to who would marry you? Al won but you rejected him. Why?" Ed asked curiously._

_Winry and Al stared at each other before answering simultaneously._

" _I said I..."_

" _She said she..."_

" _...hated men who are shorter than her!"_

Well, he did overcome one obstacle.

He was about to enter the carriage when he stopped.

"What happened Ed?" Winry asked, puzzled at Ed's behaviour.

He whipped around, his face bright and pink.

_Now or never._

He sucked in a deep breath before yelling.

"THIS IS EQUIVALENT EXCHANGE! YOU GIVE ME HALF YOUR LIFE AND I WILL GIVE HALF OF MINE!" He said quickly, huffing after finishing.

"Huh?" Winry cocked her head to one side, confused. Then as the implication of the words hit her, she slowly turned pink and finally was on the verge of emitting steam from her ears.

"WHAT SORT OF PROPOSAL IS THAT, ALCHEMY FREAK?" she yelled, anger overpowering embarrassment for a moment.

"How about I give you  _all_ of my life? Would that be fine?" she added, a bit softly.

Ed looked startled at the statement before a wide smile spread over his face.

"You are a genius, Winry! You turned the complete Equivalent Exchange law on its head and you are still correct!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining.

"Wait, wait wait! Not all my life!" Winry began hurriedly as she started counting off her fingers. "Sixty percent? No that's too less? Ninety percent? Nope. Eight-five percent? That sounds okay..."

Ed began laughing loudly, clutching the door handle to keep himself upright.

"You  _are_ a gearhead, Winry," he chortled, wiping away the tears from his eyes.

"But you are  _my_ gearhead, if that's okay with you," he continued in a more sober note, looking straight into those blue irises.

She nodded shyly.

At that moment, Edward Elric felt he was the happiest man in the world. As he stepped forth and hugged her tightly, he felt he was home at last.

**End of Chapter 02**


	3. The Pendulum

* * *

**PRESENT DAY**

* * *

**MILITARY HOSPITAL, CENTRAL COMMAND**

"So Ed left for the West and you met him a couple of days ago," Mustang concluded, rubbing his temples with a sigh.

"Yeah, I have no idea what Brother was up to," Al added, despair still clouding his voice. "If only I had known!"

Mustang clapped the younger Elric awkwardly on the back in an attempt to soothe him.

"Major Hawkeye, can you get Fullmetal's itinerary from the Western Command Centre? I believe you can contact Sheska for help," he said slowly, as if contemplating the thought.

"Right away, sir," Hawkeye saluted before leaving the premises.

"Permission to speak freely, General?" Havoc began, a bit uneasy.

"Permission granted, Lieutenant. And stop being so formal outside the Command Centre," said Mustang a trifle snappily.

"If you say so, General. But I met Ed once last year..."

"You met Ed?" Al interjected in disbelief.

"Yes, Al. I was in the Western Command during that training and drill week—you couldn't attend as you were down with fever. Breda and I met him, in the hospital..."

"Hospital?!" Al squeaked.

Havoc gave a tired nod.

"I thought Chief got himself banged up over a goose chase or something but Breda apparently overheard the doc-in-charge say something on the lines that 'the illness is getting worse day by day'. We couldn't figure out what that meant and when we tried to ask Chief, he blew it off. Well, we all know how he hates being mollycoddled. Wish I had paid more attention," he finished guiltily.

Al buried his head in his hands.

"And he didn't even  _mention_ the fact in the monthly letters we wrote to each other. That blithering IDIOT!" Al yelled, making Mustang jump. "Which reminds me, what am I supposed to say to Winry?"

* * *

**THREE YEARS AGO**

* * *

**WESTERN COMMAND CENTRE**

"I am Edward Elric..."

"Oh gosh! It's Fullmetal in the flesh!"

"Seriously? Fullmetal's here?"

"The hero of Amestris is here!"

Ed cringed at the bevy of secretaries that began to flock around him when they heard his name. And as for the secretary with whom he was talking, she promptly fainted.

"Oh jeez, I am not that a celebrity," he muttered, his cheeks slightly pink. To say he wasn't enjoying this attention would be a blatant lie.

_Wait till Colonel Bastard hears about this!_

After obliging perhaps a hundred autographs, he was finally able to get to the reason he was there for.

"A border pass for Table City and a permission letter to visit Milos in the capacity of a State Alchemist, would that be all Major Elric?" the secretary, this time a sharp faced efficient looking one, said.

"Yes ma'am, that would be all," Ed sighed. All the addressing to his "fan club" sapped away his energy.

The secretary gave him a gentle smile.

"You must excuse them, actually they had been terrified when they heard what was happening down in Central. Unlike the Northern and Eastern Command, we of the Western Command felt a bit left out of the drama in Central—and coupled with the fact that we had no idea, we felt pretty helpless. Many of our families and loved ones live there and they almost consider you to be up on a celestial pedestal," she said.

Ed grinned at her.

"I understand perfectly well, ma'am," he said.

The secretary stood up, taking the documents with her.

"Why don't you wait in the refreshment area for a while? I must pass this through Brigadier General Rei Alstenheim, the one who helms the Western Command. I will call you when it's ready."

Ed shrugged in compliance and shuffled to the refreshment area.

He had heard rumours about Alstenheim—she was known as the Dancing Alchemist and was supposed to be very quick in transmutation. Though she was quite young, younger than a certain Colonel he knew, she rose up the ranks quickly. And was a source of constant headache to the Colonel.

He suddenly wanted to meet Alstenheim in person.

He dashed to the office only in time to see the secretary exiting.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but could I meet General Alstenheim? I want to talk with her on Milosian alchemy," he said, slightly breathless.

She cocked her head to one side thoughtfully before relenting.

"If she's free, I don't see why not."

Ed followed the woman through a series of corridors lit with the sunlight pouring from outside. Unlike the Eastern Command which was clouded over the better part of the year, the Western Command was drier, sunnier. Yet there was a nip in the air which proclaimed chilly nights.

Soon, they stood outside a door on which was an embossed plaque:

_**DANCING ALCHEMIST REI ALSTENHEIM, BRIGADIER GENERAL** _

_**WESTERN COMMAND** _

She would be a force to be reckoned with. Ed gulped.

"Wait here, I will announce your presense to General Alstenheim," she said before knocking and entering the room. A few minutes later, the door opened for him to enter.

Alstenheim's office had the grandeur which both General Armstrong and Colonel's office lacked. Rich burgundy upholstery adorned the walls and the darkwood floor was well-polished. The cherrywood desk too shone brightly, so did the shelves overflowing with books of alchemy. A collection of photos adorned the left wall while a large map of Amestris was on the right. In front of him at the desk sat the person he wanted to meet.

Alstenheim looked a few years older than him—he would peg her to be no older than twenty-four. Her long black hair was tied in a neat ponytail while light bangs fell over her burning amber eyes. She had a sharp, hawk-like face which was lightly tanned and lips which were presently pressed in a thin line.

She looked serious. And dangerous.

But at the moment, her eyes held frank curiosity.

"Lira tells that you expressed a desire to meet me," she stated. Ed couldn't help but notice the slight lilting accent. It was almost musical.

"Er...yeah...I have heard about you, and when I realized you were here, I wanted to meet," Ed said awkwardly. He knew he sounded stupid.

"Fullmetal Alchemist Edward Elric, permit me to welcome you to Western Command. Why don't you seat yourself?" she said pleasantly, motioning him to occupy the empty chair in front of her.

Ed gladly occupied the offered chair. From the corner of his eye, he saw the secretary leave.

Alstenheim rested her chin on her interlocked fingers as she gazed coolly at him; he felt like a deer caught in the headlights of a speeding car. He quickly understood the reason she rose quickly up the ranks.

"I am researching Milosian Alchemy. I wonder if you knew something about it," he said slowly.

Alstenheim's eyes lit up—nothing could pave the way to an alchemist's heart quicker than a discussion over it.

"It is a pretty obscure branch, Fullmetal. Care to tell why you want to know?" she asked guardedly.

Ed gave a light shrug before answering. "During the events of the Promised Day, Xingese alkahestry saved our lives. Then I realized that we need to know more about different sorts of alchemy in order to keep ourselves safe from future harm. So..."

"Hmm..."

She smiled a little.

"You are friends with Julia Crichton, aren't you?"

* * *

**PRESENT DAY**

* * *

 

**PERSONNEL DEPLOYMENT DIVISION**

**CENTRAL COMMAND**

"Okay...okay...that would be fine. Thank you Sheska, I appreciate your help."

Major Hawkeye replaced the receiver of the phone with a sigh. Ed was certainly hopping about all over the west and had driven Western Command nuts with his antics. She remembered the old days when she served Mustang in the Eastern Command. A part of her mind wondered whether the door of the office had been replaced or not.

She thanked the Sergeant who was manning the desk at the Personnel Deployment Division and carried back the armful files to the General's office.

According to Sheska, Ed had checked into Western Command and stayed there for two days before departing for Table City. Hawkeye remembered Table City—who could forget that battle after all? With Creta being so hell-bent on declaring war towards the end, she knew she had Julia Crichton to thank for not letting the situation escalate. Milos was soon seceded out of Creta as an independent nation which had full support of Amestris.

She wondered how Julia fared—she hoped that girl was okay.

After staying in Table City for sometime, he departed for Milos where he spent almost a year. After that, he spent six months in Creta, a year in Drachma before coming to the Western Command. But what confused her were the sheaf of hospital records—Ed did have a particular affinity of landing up in hospitals but still, she had an uncomfortable feeling.

She hoped the General could make some sense out of it.

* * *

"So you think he would have gone to meet Julia Crichton, eh?" Mustang said, reading through the files Hawkeye placed on his desk.

"Yeah, that's what I can conclude," she affirmed, not lifting her head as she signed through her portion of the paperwork.

"Hmm...Milosian Alchemy...Fullmetal sure knows to keep himself on his toes. I think someone has to go to Milos and talk to Julia Crichton in person—maybe we can figure out if anything happened to him during that trip," the colonel mused, scratching his chin in thought.

"I get it sir, shall I dispatch Lieutenant Havoc then? I can ask Lieutenant Breda from Western Command as a personal favour. They are worried about Ed's wellbeing so they can be trusted to do the job efficiently," Hawkeye commented, finally lowering the pen and looking at the colonel straight into the eye.

"I don't mind Havoc going...he's feeling pretty beat up at the moment, thinking it's his fault he didn't report Ed's hospital event a bit sooner, but send Al with him. Heaven knows he could do with some change in scenery and being on the move will make him feel he's  _doing_ something," Mustang agreed, pulling out a piece of blank paper and swiftly writing the required letter.

"Consider it done, sir," Hawkeye nodded.

* * *

"The Colonel wants me to accompany you, Lieutenant Havoc?" Al said, surprised. Dusk had already fallen and Al was sitting in the outpatient lounge since the visiting hours were up.

"Yeah, that's what the boss said at any rate. He says you know someone from Milos? Most probably the person Chief went to meet?" Havoc said, sitting next to the blond.

"Yeah, Julia Crichton. Apparently, her parents were alchemists who researched into a completely new field and thus were targeted by the Cretan army for the secrets—it almost boiled into a full-fledged war with Amestris the last time. Now, Milos is an independent country and she is currently in high position in the government. The Milosians trust her to death," Al said, recalling the adventure he and his brother had that one time many years ago.

"She sounds like someone formidable," Havoc remarked.

"Certainly not a patch on a particular General from the north," Al said, a ghost of a laugh on his face.

Havoc looked glad at the smile—Al was an Elric too, after all. After watching Ed and hearing about Hohenheim, he felt stubbornness ran in their family.

After talking a bit of local affairs, the Lieutenant stood up to leave.

"Are you sure you want to stay in the hospital, Al? I have a spare bed in my room where you can crash," he offered.

Al declined it with his trademark gentle smile. "Thanks Lieutenant, I appreciate it but I want to remain at hand if any news comes up regarding Brother."

Havoc gave him a half-salute as he left the hospital.

* * *

The next day saw Al and Havoc being waved away from Central station by a stoic looking Hawkeye.

"Where's the General, Major?" Al asked with frank curiosity.

Hawkeye shrugged.

"I do not know, Al. If I have to guess, I think he is in the library, hunting for clues about Milosian Alchemy—you know State Alchemists and their quirks, don't you?" she sighed as she raised her right hand to a salute.

"I know full well what you are talking about, Major. Just say thanks to him from me, okay?" said Al, saluting her in return.

"And Lieutenant Havoc, get the job done as quickly as possible. I have sent a telegram to Brigadier General Alstenheim as a way of introduction but she is well-known for being...er...a bit temperamental. So, be careful. Get Breda and Sheska to show you the ropes as soon as possible," Hawkeye said as parting words, waving to the duo as the train chugged out of the station.

"Contact me on  _any_ updates regarding Brother's condition!" Al yelled, his last glimpse of Hawkeye being a tiny nod as the steam blotted her out of sight.

**End of Chapter 03**


	4. Far East Suite

* * *

**THREE YEARS AGO**

* * *

**THE ROYAL PALACE**

**SHIN-KA**

**XING**

"...a little to the right...I said a  _little,_  god dammit! What are you, deaf?" Ling growled, waving his arms around like a madman as he directed the decorations people to hang up the various charms in the throne room.

"Are you certain about doing this yourself, Your Majesty? I am sure people can be hired," Lan Fan suggested in her soft yet firm voice.

"No Lan Fan," Ling sighed. "I promised myself that I would most of the jobs on my own."

Ling sat on the elaborately decorated throne, which was perhaps older than the homunculus which had called itself "Father". Though he frankly hated sitting put at one place, it was Lan Fan's sharp eye that made him toe the line. He wished he could hop about the country like his half-sister May. He cast a sly glance at his trustworthy bodyguard—nope, he couldn't trick her. She had the sharpest eyes in the kingdom.

He was clad in the Xingese royal robes of light gold trimmed with rich red velvet, a ceremonial sword gleaming at his waist. He absently rubbed the area where Greed's Ouraboros tattoo had been etched—it was a new mannerism he had unknowingly adopted which he committed when he was in a deep thought.

"Something the matter, Your Majesty?" Lan Fan murmured. Ling looked at her, slightly startled before looking at his hands. He gave a sheepish grin.

"I kind of miss that guy, you know, Greed," he said, a little wistfully. A snarl from Lan Fan made him jump again.

"That vile  _thing_ had no business in His Majesty's body!" she hissed.

"Okay okay, cool it, Lan Fan," Ling said, lifting his hands in order to placate her. "I know he was a homunculus but Greed was a good guy...after all, he did help me save my neck in more ways than one."

Lan Fan grunted non-committally, still displeased.

Ling sighed.

"Alright Lan Fan, I won't mention him. Will that be okay with you?" he asked, offering peace.

He couldn't see her face because of the mask but he could see her eyes soften. She gave a curt nod before returning to observe her surroundings in silence.

Ling stretched back on his throne, revelling in the slight  _pop_  as the lethargy was driven out of his joints. Al had arrived a couple of days ago, and already he was out sightseeing, courtesy May. He grinned to himself—May certainly wasn't wasting any time. Thinking of Al made him think of the older Elric, bringing a frown to his characteristically good-natured face. That day, the Promised Day, when Ed gave up his alchemy, he felt a drastic change in his  _chi_. And he could bet his life and a lifetime of fancy dinners that the change was certainly not a good one.

And knowing Ed, the former alchemist is well-known to keep his troubles bottled up. He decided to confront him as soon as possible, before it was too late.

He had off-handedly mentioned to Al that he would like to meet Ed in the upcoming diplomatic meet, though now he felt he should meet him sooner. If it was what  _he thought it was_...then time was something of a luxury he didn't have.

"Say Lan Fan, how about going out to Creta?" he said lightly, trying to gauge his bodyguard's reaction.

"Creta, ypur Majesty? May I ask why?" she said in the usual flat voice. Ling sighed inwardly—she sure was a bit  _too_ used to his mad ideas.

"I have some untended business with someone there, not of diplomatic capacity but of a personal nature," he continued, a bit of seriousness seeping into his voice.

Lan Fan stiffened, slowly turning her head.

"Are you by any chance worried about Edward Elric, your Majesty?" she said shrewdly.

Ling gave her a tentative smile.

"Shrewd and sharp as your sword, Lan Fan," he commented. Lan Fan shrugged but didn't say anything.

Ling mused on his own, testing the idea of hopping across Amestris and weighing it over the troubles he would have to encounter. Granted he was the king, but still, not all clansmen were as accepting as the Chang clan. In fact, three to four assassinations attempts a month had become more or less routine. But if he left the palace, who would run the country in his stead?

_Dammit!_ He fumed silently. What sort of crap was he in, that he couldn't even help his friend even though he was the leader of one of the powerful nations of the world?

He fisted his hand and was about to slam it on his knee in frustration when Lan Fan caught his hand in mid-action.

"Lan Fan?" he said, a trifle puzzled.

"Maybe I know a way," she said softly, pointing at the newcomer who stood at the door.

* * *

 

**PHOENIX PALACE**

**MILOS**

"...I swear, it's the best drink that ever went down my throat!"

Ed downed another glass of the strange blue-coloured drink, savouring the cold liquid as it trickled into his belly, quenching the heat that had elevated his body temperature.

"I swear Julia, Milos is one hell of a country in summer!" he added, shedding his vest and adding it to a pile which consisted of his brown overcoat, scarf and his combat boots. He unhooked a couple of buttons of his shirt and fanned himself with a piece of tissue paper.

The girl who sat next to him didn't look much older than him. Her long orange hair was now held up in a loose bun on the top of her head, random curls framing her mischievous pixie face. Her opal eyes sparkled as she saw her guest down his fifth glass of the drink she made. Clad in a loose blue top and white culottes along with straw flip-flops, she looked more like a tourist than an important government official.

"Well, that drink is a sort of secret of the Milosians, but I can say it's made of blueberry, raw mango, cumin and stuff. And it is supposed to be a cooler on killer days like today," she said, grinning.

The duo were seated in Julia's private apartment in the complex, a two-room settlement that had the capacity to rival the most extravagant room of Ling's palace. The roofs were high, making Ed feel shorter than usual (though he refused to admit it). But the "blue drink" chased away all the "short" thoughts as he leant back on the plush armchair, revelling in the softness after spending over twenty hours in the military escort vehicle.

Ed placed the glass on the ornately carved wooden coffee table before giving a content sigh.

"So, how's life? I mean, the last time I checked, Milos was a sovereign nation," he said.

Julia nodded, happiness evident on her face.

"Yep. With Amestris supporting us, Creta cannot make a move due to the fear of upsetting you people. Which reminds me, how's Al? And what happened in Central? I mean, the newspapers covered it but I am not convinced. Care to elaborate?"

Ed exhaled loudly as he debated internally before shrugging.

"Well, there's no reason to hide it anymore. But you have to promise me—some info cannot be made public for reasons you will realize once you hear my story," he said, stretching his limbs to the fullest.

"You have my word," she replied, settling down on the sofa more comfortably as she got ready to hear one more adventure of the Elric brothers.

* * *

 

**WESTERN COMMAND**

**AMESTRIS**

Rei Alstenheim was so busy in reading through her paperwork that the sudden shrill ring of the telephone made her jump a couple of feet. Mentally admonishing herself on such juvenile reaction, she placed a paperweight on the sheaf of loose sheets and picked up the phone.

"Brigadier General Rei Alstenheim speaking," she said tonelessly. She hated being interrupted in her work.

And the snarky voice that answered on the other end made her wish to strangle him.

"Oh hello General! Feels nice to hear your so-beautiful voice!"

Rei gritted her teeth; one of these days, she was going to  _strangle_ that man for good. She just hoped Hawkeye wouldn't mind.

"What is it, Colonel?" she said tiredly. After a morning of surveying the canal works in this heat, then heading a really useless trial to signing through a ton of paperwork, she was in no mood to cater some fool's idiosyncrasies. Certainly not Colonel Mustang's.

"Just straight to business, General? No hi, hello or how are you?" he egged on, seemingly glad that he was able to get on her nerves.

"Do you have anything to say or should I disconnect the line?" she muttered, signing the documents while holding the phone between her shoulder and ear.

She could hear him cough himself into seriousness.

"I would suggest not—General, I need your help. Seriously."

 

* * *

**THE ROYAL STABLES**

**SHIN-KA**

**XING**

"Older brother Sang Yao? Are you sure?" Ling asked for perhaps the hundredth time.

The man with whom he was talking nodded gravely. He was a complete facsimile of the Xing's rule, just a bit taller and more well-built than him.

"Yes, Ling. That's what I heard from the scouts. Princess Ying Fa is preparing an army to move against you—all hush hush but there's nothing a knife and a wad of notes can't spill. In fact, it would be best if you disappear from public view for a month. We will spread the news that you are visiting Aerugo for some diplomatic meeting. We will leak the fictional security detail too. Then we can see the reaction—hence getting our enemies in one fell swoop. You can do your work and as head of the Intelligence, my work will be done too."

"Ying Fa, huh..." Ling muttered. Thirty-seventh princess Ying Fa was the sole heir of the Fa clan which was at continuous loggerheads with his Yao clan. And the one thing everyone knew about her was she was bloodthirsty and loved power. She could do  _anything_ to ensure her rule.

Ling suddenly shuddered when he realised what could have happened if the Homunculus and Philosopher's Stone had gone public. People like Ying Fa wouldn't hesitate to kill people to be king.

"But who would rule in my stead?" Ling asked, the only question which he couldn't answer.

"The council of ministers and if royal permit is needed, Lady May Chang could fulfil it," said Sang Yao readily.

"The council? Are you sure?" Ling asked, doubt colouring his voice.

"It would be a good opportunity to test their loyalty, your Majesty," Lan Fan said softly. "And not to mention the fact that it's a nice way to expose Lady May Chang to the intricacies of politics. If she is your successor, she should be aware of such things."

Ling nodded slowly, their reasons winning him over.

"If we can pull this off, I hope we can have more answers than unanswered questions," he said gravely.

* * *

**PRESENT DAY**

* * *

**CENTRAL COMMAND**

**AMESTRIS**

Brigadier General Roy Mustang sat in his office, twiddling his thumbs. The files that Riza had brought from Personnel Deployment popped up more questions than answers. It took him better part of two days to unearth his medical trail, since many of the reasons of Fullmetal dropping into hospital didn't make much sense.

That idiot was a sucker for pain, but even that didn't warrant the anomalies scribbled in the reports.

He snatched up the report, the one delivered by the doctor treating Fullmetal a mere hour ago.

It said that his vitals were stable, yet he wasn't waking up.

Roy frowned.

Why the hell wasn't that idiot waking up?

He checked the calendar on the wall. It had been two days since Al and Havoc had left for West City. If all went well, they were supposed to have reached the Western Command by now. He hoped they got some new information.

**End of Chapter 04**


	5. Fire in the Sky

* * *

**THREE YEARS AGO**

* * *

**PHOENIX PALACE, MILOS**

Two days post arrival of Ed, Julia found him holed up in the library. She couldn't help but smile at his attire—cream linen shirt open at the collar and sleeves rolled halfway up his arms, brown knee-length shorts and flip-flops. Not that she would ever mention it but the attire made him look like a lot younger than he actually was. His golden hair was held up in a pony tail, swishing as he turned abruptly to grab a book from a pile double his height.

"Can't keep an Elric away from books for long," she commented, handing him a glass of that same drink she had given him on arrival. Ed accepted the glass with gratitude.

"Thanks Julia. If I had known Milos was going to be this hot in summer, I would have come in winter," he said as he chugged down the cool liquid, relishing the wetness in his throat.

Julia sat down cross-legged next to him, opening a book which looked to be tossed aside. A sudden gust of wind managed to tease her light blue off-shoulder summer dress reveal more skin than necessary but she quickly pulled down the hem. She eyed the alchemist from her peripheral vision.

Either he did not notice the wind's naughty by play or was doing a good job in hiding it.

She sighed...who was she kidding?

Edward Elric was taken...long before she even had a fighting chance.

She looked through the pages of the book—though she had been an alchemist during the uprising, she was never a dedicated researcher like her brother or the Elrics. So when the Milosian government asked her to step in, she was more than happy. She was always active on field rather than being an academic.

"So what are you researching exactly?" she asked, slightly puzzled. The book she was holding was related to medical alchemy, just like the other books that surrounded him. The Elrics were more of a hands-on military type alchemists—not like those rumoured alkahestrists from Xing.

Come to think of it, wasn't the Xing's emperor on good terms with Ed?

Then why would he research medical alchemy  _here_  when his own friend could give him a treasure trove of the same information within a flick of his finger?

Ed stared at her, as if contemplating what to tell her. He sighed, apparently reaching to some decision after a short mental tussle with his conscience.

"There's this condition, rare but there all the same, which is hard to get information on. Alkahestry can treat it, but I need to know what is it exactly before I try curing it," he said slowly.

She knew he wasn't telling her the whole story but she refrained from pushing him; if she knew him well, she knew he wouldn't tell unless and until he himself wanted to.

She just hoped it wasn't dangerous.

* * *

**LING'S PERSONAL QUARTERS, THE ROYAL PALACE**

**SHIN-KA, XING**

"Are you sure you are not getting paranoid in your old age?" Ling joked.

Lan Fan glared at him as she continued doing what she was doing. Ling sighed.

He hated feeling useless.

Lan Fan was packing a year's worth of rations, at least that what it looked like. Two heavy backpacks along with stuffed up saddle-bags...Ling shook his head.

She would never listen to him.

He just sat on the edge of his bed, fiddling with the hem of his light yellow jacket, watching her scurry about in the giant room. He still felt uncomfortable to occupy the royal resting quarters by himself—even though he  _was_ a prince before, the Yao clan never believed in splurging unnecessarily.

In fact, his bedroom was large enough to swallow his previous accommodation whole and still leave some space for a fishpond.

"The packing is complete, Your Majesty," Lan Fan said, inspecting her handiwork. If she heard Ling's yet another exasperated sigh, she didn't acknowledge it. "When do you propose we leave?"

Ling scratched his chin thoughtfully.

"The sun has climbed high as of today, I think it would be best if we leave before dawn tomorrow," he said.

Lan Fan nodded.

"If that is His Majesty's wish," she bowed.

* * *

**MILITARY LIBRARY, WEST CITY**

"Good afternoon, Sheska!"

"Oh...um..uh...good afternoon, Brigadier General Alstenheim!"

Rei couldn't help but smile at the young transfer's awkwardness, but she was well aware of the fact that Sheska knew her work very well.

"Do you need something from the library, ma'am?" she asked, her voice hopelessly nervous.

Rei waved away her question.

"Don't worry Sheska, I know where to find it. You carry on with your work—the investigation is on full swing, I presume?" she said, her eyes narrowing slightly. Those thugs had made it a routine to ransack houses now, and though it wasn't high on her priority list, she wanted to get the case closed.

After all, she prided herself on keeping the West set and orderly.

"Ye..yes, ma'am!" Sheska said, saluting enthusiastically. "We are confident of catching them before their next raid."

Rei nodded.

"Good."

She waved again and stepped up into the second floor.

Damn that Mustang! But hell, she  _was_ curious.

It came with the job, she mused. Alchemists were worse than cats in the curiosity department.

Mustang said something about the alchemical energy of the earth going off the charts at times. But that happened mostly, no  _always_ , during earthquakes. But if he had to be believed, then it had become a daily occurrence in Central.

She frowned.

Why the hell did he think that the answer lay  _here_ in the library of the Western Command?

She stopped in front of the section which had books on geology and mineral alchemy. As she read through them, she recalled the rumour about Edward Elric specializing in mineral alchemy.

_Damn! If only that dratted Colonel had called up a day earlier!_

She shook her head—wishful thinking wouldn't give her answers.

After getting an armful of books issued and giving instructions to drop them to her office at the earliest, she decided to take a breather and stepped into a café for a nice tankard of ice tea.

As she sipped it thinking random stuff, she noticed a young man walk up and sit on an adjacent table with his back facing her.

A young man clad in a black singlet and grey shorts and strap-on sandals. A common summer attire.

She wouldn't have given him a second glance if not for a strange tattoo on the back of his left shoulder. A reddish, circular tattoo.

She gasped. She knew what it was. Hell, every soldier with rank Colonel and higher knew that symbol.

It was an Ouraboros tattoo.

The symbol of the Homunculus.

* * *

**THE CHANG ROYAL MANSION**

**SHIN-KA, XING**

"Okay, okay May. I got it. I understand.  _Seriously!_ "

Alphonse ducked again, missing the water balloon by inches. Not that it would have made much of a difference—he was soaked from head-to-toe as it was.

May frowned, bouncing another water balloon in her hand as she began to take aim. Alphonse had opened up his blindfold and his amber eyes were too puppy-like to fuel her resolve. Finally, she gave up, replacing the balloon in the bucket where many of its brethren were kept.

"But unless and until you realise what the Dragon's Pulse is, you cannot hope to learn Alkahestry," she said, sitting down on the ground with a  _flump_.

Alphonse sighed as he sat down next to her. It was already late evening, with only a bit of dying sunlight colouring the horizon. They were in the backyard of the Chang Mansion, which doubled up as May's practise ground whenever she stayed in Shin-Ka. When Ling finally became emperor, he made sure May stayed here, instead of returning to her home province. Though she pouted at that decision, she knew that the decision was more logical than sentimental at the moment; from the moment Ling had announced her to be his heir if he had no offspring, she too became a target for various assassination attempts. Especially with the Fa clan becoming more bloodthirsty, Ling refused to take any risks.

She gave a slight shudder—Princess Ying Fa was the most dangerous of all her siblings. Though Ling had the brains of a hard-core politician, he too was wary of the Fa princess. Because unlike him, she never drew a line. She had no limits, no emotional ties.

And that made her all the more dangerous.

"Where's Ling by the way, May? I heard the guards say he's going out of town," said Alphonse, slightly puzzled. May shrugged.

"Ling's like that...he can never stay put in one place. But I wouldn't worry—Lan Fan's with him," she said, smiling. Alphonse grinned back.

"I know...she's like a really dangerous mother hen where Ling's concerned," he said, leaning back as he stared up at the darkening sky.

Suddenly he yelped.

"Wha—" May began, worried.

Alphonse pointed to the sky, his mouth working soundlessly. Puzzled, she followed the lead and looked up.

She gasped.

It was a shooting star.

"Make a wish, quick!" he said frantically, closing his eyes and mumbling something softly.

She closed her eyes too.

_Whatever happens, let it be a happy ending!_

* * *

**RESEMBOOL, AMESTRIS**

Winry stretched her arms as she sat on the porch. It had been a tiring day.

With Edward unwittingly acting as her model, she had begun receiving more orders than usual. It took almost twelve hours of constant work to just keep up. Even though Granny helped, she knew that the old lady was not getting younger. Hence, it was upon her shoulders to deliver the best work her hands could create.

She looked at her grease-stained hands, smiling as a memory floated across her mind.

_Your hands are for creating stuff, not destroying._

Funny how  _Edward Elric_ of all people made her realise that. She couldn't help but grin—that guy had an emotional range of a teaspoon but at times, he certainly said things which were, well, hard-hitting.

He was always obnoxious, loud-mouthed,  _short-_ tempered (pun very well intended! :D) not to mention accident-prone, danger-magnet and an idiot with a death wish. But still, she fell for him.

Fell for him hard.

She never did realize when did fall for him exactly—the time when he saved her from Scar, perhaps?

That day still managed to get her goosebumps all over the body—the way Ed shielded her using his body...what if anything had happened to him?

Unlike his automail arm, flesh and bone wasn't something she could fix. And they weren't as durable as her automail counterparts.

She sighed as she saw the evening star wink back.

Sure, he was trouble. But he was a trouble she would gladly carry all her life.

She just hoped—

A streak of light lit up the darkening sky.

Her face lit up. A shooting star!

She quickly closed her eyes.

_Wherever you are, just be safe. And come back to me._

**End of Chapter 05**


	6. Lapis Philosophium

* * *

**PRESENT DAY**

* * *

**WESTERN COMMAND**

Al stretched his limbs, glad to be out of the train and on solid ground. After journeying a fair number of times in those contraptions after he got his body back, he fully sympathized with his brother's rant.

He remembered the early days when Ed would often end up kicking the train seat in anger. Now, he believed Ed's actions were almost justified.

Havoc stepped on to the platform after him, carrying the bags on his shoulder with the omnipresent cigarette spewing smoke on his lips.

"So, Al. Hotel or the Command?" he asked, inhaling the smoke.

Al thought for a second before he felt a sudden ripple in his conscience. His Dragon Pulse training kicked in, picking up an aura which by its very nature should not exist.

He quickly zeroed into that aura—it was difficult. That aura was flickering way too much. But he knew he wasn't mistaken.

If he remembered May's training correctly, this was surely the aura of a Homunculus.

* * *

**RESEMBOOL, AMESTRIS**

Winry was lying on the couch, trying to mentally map out the new automail leg she was going to make for Ed. According to his last letter, which he posted a month ago, he was due to return sometime this week. And knowing him, she knew he would have busted his leg for good.

The past three years had only seen an exchange of letters and a few phone calls—she half-hoped he would come trudging back within a few months after blowing up his automail in yet another wild-goose chase but he didn't.

She then realised she wasn't going to see him for a very,  _very_ long time.

The three years passed by uneventfully in her eyes—she had popped into Rush Valley last year to visit her old master but apart from that, she just couldn't afford to leave Resembool. There were just  _too_ many customers.

But when Ed said he would coming back, followed by Al's letter on the same lines, she was skipping in delight. Granny Pinako sighed into her pipe, commenting how nice it was too be young and in love, but she was too happy to be embarrassed.

She almost fell off the couch when the phone's shrill ringing cut through the silence. Shaking her head at her jumpy nature, she quickly scrambled up on her feet and jammed the receiver on her ear.

"Rockbell prosthetic limb outfitters," she said cheerily .

"Good morning Ms. Rockbell. This is Brigadier General Mustang from Central."

Winry unconsciously gripped the receiver tightly. The General  _never_ called. And certainly not for chit-chatting.

"Ed...is he okay?" she asked, fear slowly creeping up her voice.

She heard an uncomfortable laugh on the other side of the line.

"You are one perceptive young lady, aren't you," he sighed.

"Al didn't want me to tell you but the thing is, you might be of help. Ed is in the hospital and we believe you just might know the reason."

* * *

**CENTRAL COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

Mustang replaced the phone with a sigh.

"Winry...she is not too distraught, is she?" Hawkeye asked, her face impassive.

Mustang stared at the replaced receiver, his expression unreadable.

"You know Riza," he began. Hawkeye stiffened. He  _never_ called her Riza, at least not since he joined the military. She knew that his next words would be something that was troubling his mind...and he seriously needed some support.

"Riza...I don't know! The reports are inconclusive, Milos is unresponsive and Alstenheim is keeping her mouth shut and not taking up my calls...what the hell is up with everyone! Breda wants to help but he knows nothing...Sheska wants to help but she can't access much...this is crazy. It's crazier than the Father business!" Mustang groaned, burying his head in his palms. Hawkeye placed a palm on his shoulder in order to placate him.

Mustang put his hand over hers, his other hand still covering his eyes.

"Riza...I..." he whispered.

Hawkeye squeezed his hand gently.

"Roy...it will be okay. The Elrics never do anything low-key, you know that. Just relax...everything's going to be fine," she said gently.

Mustang nodded his head, still hanging on to her hand like a lost child.

Hawkeye couldn't help but feel sad at the entire situation—there, one man lay asleep to the world as the ones he loves are trying desperately to bring him back. And here, one man was forced to swallow his love so that he could right the wrongs that had been done.

Two men who fought like children, cried like children yet faced the world with a confidence and bravado of a veteran, torn through by the ravages of fate.

This was unfair!

* * *

**THREE YEARS AGO**

* * *

**THE GREAT DESERT BETWEEN AMESTRIS AND XING**

Lan Fan stared at the unyielding back of the man riding the camel in front of her.

The man who fought like a toddler, ate as if there was no tomorrow but faced the world with a dare-devil grin...and man she loved but couldn't accept...couldn't tell...

The fate was cruel.

She blinked away her tears and kept her eyes fixed on to the horizon—the only way she could love him was to protect him.

And till her dying breath, she would.

Some five hours or so later, she saw the horizon shimmering.

"Lan Fan!" Ling called, twisting his torso to face her.

"You see that shimmer?" he said, jerking his thumb back.

She shielded her eyes from the sun with her palms—she could just make out some buildings.

"Yes Your Majesty...I believe it is the Amestrian border town of Hecate," she said.

Ling sighed in relief.

"Ah thank goodness! I would finally get this sand out and some food in," he said happily.

Lan Fan shook her head. For all things, Ling could be a serious air head at times!

After another tiring hour, the duo were at the border camp's temporary transit office, glad for the shade offered by the tarpaulin cover that served as the roof. The civil officer in charge of the office looked at them suspiciously. Lan Fan had taken off her mask and changed into more flowy and civilian clothes while Ling sat straight and tried to behave more like a poor immigrant searching for job than a king who couldn't sit still.

And Lan Fan was not surprised to see he was failing miserably.

"I am juust an eemmiigraant, you see...not at all femilliiaar weeth thee laanguage..." Ling said, waving his arms like a windmill and narrowly missing Lan Fan's head in the process.

The officer looked through their transit documents, as if sorry to not be able to find any discrepancy.

"So you," the officer pointed to Ling, "you are Xiao Han and she is your wife Lin Han. And you are here to search for a job?"

"That wuud bee eet, good sir," said Ling, keeping up that "foreign" accent. Lan Fan crossed her fingers, hoping that the immigration check gets over quickly.

The officer glared at them for long but Ling looked back, unimpressed. The officer sighed.

"You two don't look like trouble. Welcome to Amestris," he said, waving them to move to the train station.

Lan Fan let out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding.

"Well, that was easy...maybe I can make it into my next hobby!" said Ling brightly, reverting back to his "normal" accent as they sped towards the ticket counter.

"Make  _what_ your hobby, Your Majesty?" Lan Fan asked, puzzled.

"Entering into countries like this way! I tell you, it's a lot less hassle than the diplomatic circus!" he said happily, oblivious to Lan Fan's almost-murderous face.

* * *

**CENTRAL COURT**

**PHOENIX PALACE**

**MILOS**

"Oh come on! I didn't do  _anything_ , Julia!"

Julia giggled as she almost dragged Ed to the Central Court, conveniently forgetting to tell him the reason the place was named so.

"Three days into your country and you drag me to a bloody court? Julia!" Ed yelled, not caring that he was attracting strange looks from the other people of the palace.

Laughing, Julia finally came to a halt next to a giant fountain shaped like a dolphin, the water coming out of its snout.

"Ed!" she grinned, leaving her vice-like grip on Ed's upper arm and dancing around the circular marble courtyard. The courtyard was bordered by potted red roses while the vines of various creepers formed a greenish shade from the harsh sun.

"Ed,  _this_ is Central Court!" she giggled, sitting on the raised marble platform that bordered the fountain.

Ed gaped at her.

She patted the spot next to him, inviting him to sit. He plopped himself next to her.

The light spray from the fountain fell on the back of his neck, cooling him a little. He looked around slowly, as if trying to believe the fact that he had been taken for a ride.

"Julia, seriously! You made me lose a couple of years there!" he sighed, unable to stop his lips from breaking out into a grin.

"Hehe, Ed! I do have the homeground advantage after all!" she smirked, turning a semi-circle and dipping her legs in the shallow pool.

"You had been cooped up in the library for a straight twenty-four hours, Ed," she added, swinging her legs in the water.

"Come on, you do the same. It's fun!"

Ed started to shake his head before he stopped...well, why not? His automail leg  _was_ a bit hot than usual...

"Why Central Court? The name sounds freaky," he muttered, swinging his legs.

"It was just a whim on part of the Architect department," said Julia, looking at the marble dolphin. "Initially, this place was supposed to be the court for minor legal proceedings but the idea was scrapped at the last moment. Hence, we got it developed into this place. Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Hmm hmm...just don't say "I am taking you to court for reading too much in the library" all of a sudden. To someone who has spent the better part of his childhood in the military, the word "court" is something really troublesome," Ed said, looking at the glistening automail.

His shorts showcased the automail in its full glory—and apparently, as Milos was still engaged in skirmishes with Creta, many soldiers had to get their limbs replaced by the metal contraptions.

People didn't stare at him as if he was freak, they stared more in awe.

It was Rush Valley all over again.

Thankfully as he was hosted by Julia Crichton herself, people were wary of jumping over him. But their eyes still got glassy.

Rockbell automail's brand ambassador...he thought of taking a fee from Winry next time.

He dipped his legs into the water, reveling in its coolness. Slowly, he dipped one hand into the water and before Julia could figure out his intentions, he splashed it right into her face.

"Ed!" she spluttered.

Ed laughed, almost falling into the water.

Julia couldn't help but give him an evil grin. She pushed the laughing alchemist into the water, stopping him abruptly in a mid-chortle.

"Hey!" he said loudly as he stood up, dripping from head to toe. Julia giggled at the sight.

"Aha! It's funny, huh? Let's give you a taste of your own medicine!" Ed said, grinning madly as he lifted Julia from her sit and was about to plonk her into the middle of the pool when he lost his footing and slipped, falling on his back with Julia on top of him.

His vision was blocked by a pair of teal eyes; he could feel her heartbeat increase.

"Err..." he mumbled. He never knew she had such full, pink lips.

"Ed," she whispered softly. Ed was completely submerged, save for his face which was now reddening by the second.

She searched his amber eyes, trying not to feel disappointed. They looked curious, and a bit embarrassed.

_He was taken_.

She quickly scrambled up to her feet, looking away at the roses.

She felt a hand on her shoulder.

She bit her lip...but her tears thought otherwise.

"You are crying," he said gently, turning her face by her chin to make her face him.

"Water...wen..went...in..to my..my ey..eyes," she stammered.

"Julia, look at me," he commanded in that soft voice which was so uncharacteristic of him.

She refrained but a gentle pressure on her shoulder made her look up into his eyes.

She was afraid she would see anger, perhaps a hardness.

But she was surprised to see the same warmth and friendliness.

"I like you Julia, you are a good friend," he said. "But I have already pledged my heart to someone else."

She looked away again, trying to discreetly wipe her tears but failed.

"I know," she mumbled.

Ed looked puzzled.

"How do you know? Did Al tell you?" he asked, surprised.

"Al? Of course not," she replied, not understanding his question.

"Then how did you know?" he asked.

Julia stared at him.

"I mean, I met your girlfriend during that time you came to Milos...remember?" she replied, still puzzled.

Ed looked confused.

"But...then...she wasn't my girlfriend  _then_...she is  _now..._ but I proposed to her just a week back," he said, trying to make sense.

Julia stared at him...hard.

Then she burst out laughing.

"Seriously Ed, are you really  _that_ oblivious? I mean, you were obviously into her since perhaps your childhood and you proposed to her now...are you for real?"

Ed looked at her, flabbergasted.

"Even Al told me the same...man, did the whole world know that Winry and I loved each other apart from us?" he groaned, plopping back into the water, his head in his hand.

Julia chortled in mirth, the awkwardness forgotten.

"Well, thank God you grew past your oblivious phase and decided to embrace reality," she said, still grinning.

* * *

**ALSTENHEIM'S CABIN**

**WESTERN COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

Rei was still shaking as she dialled Central Command's number.

"This is Telephone Exchange, Central Command. How may I help you?" came the clipped voice of the operator.

"This is Brigadier General Rei Alstenheim from Western Command. Patch me through to Colonel Roy Mustang's private line," she said, willing her voice to regain that steadiness.

"Can I have the proof that I am indeed in conversation with Brigadier General Rei Alstenheim? I would like your passcode," said the voice.

"This is a  _military_  line, you upstart! Get him on the line or you can kiss your job goodbye!" she said angrily.

She heard some shuffling before the receiver was taken by another person.

"I apologize, General Alstenheim. The phone was being manned by a trainee and she did not know the protocol correctly as of yet. I will patch your line to Colonel Mustang immediately."

"Hmpf!" Rei said.  _Finally!_

After some really long seconds (she swore her clock was slowing down), the snarky voice of the Colonel floated through the receiver.

"Hello General! Nice of you to call!" he said chirpily.

"Shut up, Mustang. Ouraboros tattoo, that's what the Homunculi had, didn't they?" she asked quickly.

"Yes, why?" the voice had dropped the chirpiness and adopted a serious, quieter tone.

"Injuries, they healed with reddish sparks of alchemical reaction, correct?" she asked breathlessly.

"Yes, that is correct. What is it General?" he asked.

Rei closed her eyes before saying the words she didn't want to say out loud.

"Colonel, I am afraid we have a Homunculus loose in the streets."

* * *

**THE GUEST QUARTERS**

**PHOENIX PALACE, MILOS**

Ed sat cross-legged on the floor, leafing through a very,  _very_ old diary. He was glad he had studied Ancient Cretian as a dare given by Al on summer night many years ago—the entire notes were coded in that language.

There was wealth of information in that diary but no one figured it out, though he wasn't surprised in the least. Even Cretians themselves didn't know Ancient Cretian very well.

He read through the pages he had decoded, trying to clear the picture that was forming in his head.

> " _The Philosopher's Stone, the Elixir of life, is the perfect object to exist in the universe. An object which can simultaneously exist as a solid, liquid and in a gaseous form, this mythical stone can accomplish many miracles which are attributed to the wonders brought by the supernatural. Mythical it might be, but this blood-red stone can amplify an alchemist's ability by many times—hence can become a menace if fallen in wrong hands. But such an object is not natural, not logical, thus cannot be allowed to exist. Because some things which are impossible are supposed to be impossible."_

Ed took out another page, the section he decoded on human transmutation.

> " _Human transmutation is an unholy, unnatural activity that the Almighty will punish most severely. For a man cannot trade the value of soul, as it is something which cannot be valued in the first place. But a being which houses the most cherished of the God's Domain shall be cursed, in forms that no human will ever know."_

He frowned.

These notes were around two hundred years old...and the alchemist who wrote them seemed to have met Father. And he seemed to have met that toothy grinning bastard too.

But that last line was troubling him... _But a being which houses the most cherished of the God's Domain shall be cursed?_

Was Hohenheim "cursed"?

Was his mother's death a result of her being in love with him?

He looked at his hands.

Was he himself too being a part of that "curse"?

He slammed his fist onto the stone floor in frustration, the impact jarring his entire arm.

"Dammit!" he bellowed, feeling that urge to punch Truth into his face.

**End of Chapter 06**


	7. Lurking

* * *

**THREE YEARS AGO**

* * *

**BRIGGS FORTRESS, AMESTRIS**

A tall, strong-looking woman clad in the blue military outfit walked purposefully down the corridor, her trademark long sunny blonde hair swishing in her wake. Soldiers who were dawdling in their work or were plain gossiping quickly reverted to their set jobs.

No one in their right mind would afford to mess with the Ice Queen.

Major General Olivier Armstrong.

The one responsible for the unyielding Iron Wall of Briggs.

And currently was extremely pissed off.

She entered the conference room to find her subordinates Falman, Keynes, Seylum and Miles sitting around the oval table with Falman cradling a cup of black coffee.

As she entered, the four of them stood up to salute her.

"At ease, soldiers," she said gruffly, drawing out a chair and sitting on it in one fluid motion.

"What is it, General?" asked Miles, voicing out what the others desperately wanted to know.

"I have been called to Central ASAP," she said heavily. Four shocked gasps followed her terse statement.

"But why?" asked Falman, surprised. As far as he knew, Central was up and running happily. Surely Lieutenant Hawkeye would have told him if something was wrong.

"I do not know for certain but if I have to believe that matchstick—" Falman cringed at Armstrong's reference to Mustang "—then it is imperative for me to go there. And whatever the issue is, Fuhrer Grumman has given the go ahead so, frankly I cannot refuse. The matchstick says it cannot be discussed over the phone but I cannot help but feel a little apprehensive—we all know what happened the last time I visited Central."

Lieutenant Andrew Keynes looked at his commanding officer thoughtfully. He wasn't part of the active military when the Father business occurred but he knew what happened all the same. He might be inexperienced on field, but his ability to form simple yet almost fool-proof strategies at the drop of a hat had earned him a quick and early promotion. Though being posted to Briggs was treated as punishment in the military circles, he loved the work environment here. The informality along with the friendly aura that enveloped the frosty outpost was more than enough to make him feel happy here.

Though not as well-built as the other men around, he could still wrestle a bear and live to tell the tale. Thus, he did pass the "unofficial" initiation to become one of the "Briggs' men".

At present, he was shaking his head with shaggy black hair while his bright blue eyes looked sharper than usual.

"Pardon my interruption, General, but could the reason be something related to the Promised Day?" he asked.

Armstrong looked a little puzzled as she considered his opinion. This was the other thing he liked about Briggs—he could be new and inexperienced, but he wasn't ignored.

"A well-thought out proposition indeed, Lieutenant. But as far as I know, everyone related to that incident has been dealt with...hmm...but when you think about it, it  _could_ be. In fact, it  _is_ the only reason that could force Mustang to speak seriously for once...and if that is the case, then we do have another matter in our hands."

Armstrong sighed, leaning back on her chair. Somehow, after the Promised Day, the daily Drachman assault felt more like a toddler pelting her with minuscule stones.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to consolidate her thoughts.

"Okay, listen up now. I will be leaving tomorrow morning. Miles will be in charge until I return, Falman will be assisting him. Keynes will come with me, Seylum will take over Keynes duties along with her own," she said briskly.

Warrant Officer Alicia Seylum was the newest recruit, just a year into her military blues. She was just twenty years old, fresh out of Academy and handled most of the legal documents in Briggs. She had a calm, unruffled disposition and no one had seen her excited, not even when the Drachmans had actually succeeded into drilling underground and right into the fortress' basement some six months back. She had just nodded when she received the news, pressed the alarm button and efficiently noted down the date and time and recorded the event in her report binders.

Her pale sandy brown hair was held up in a bun at the nape of her neck while her grey eyes on her fair face always looked bored.

On receiving her commanding officer's instructions, she just nodded.

"Stay on your toes—expecting the unexpected is the only defence we have. Now, hop to, soldiers. You are dismissed."

With that, Armstrong left the room, leaving a bunch of worried soldiers in her wake.

* * *

**THE LIBRARY**

**PHOENIX PALACE, MILOS**

Ed buried himself under the books again, determined to unearth the cryptic meaning of the notes he had decoded last night.

_Yeah great. Decode only to get more codes. Either that alchemist was a loony or plain darn paranoid—who codes his notes_ this _much?_

Apart from alkahestry, no one had even  _bothered_  about exploring medicine with alchemy. Four hundred years and people were still stuck on ripping out each other's throats.

_Hohenheim_  did create alkahestry, though. His...father.

He sighed. Well, that was a small consolation, at least. He wasn't the perfect father but at least, he did pave a way for humanity to triumph when faced with trouble.

He skimmed through the pages again, searching for something. He almost dropped the heavy tome on his flesh foot when he found it.

He cleared out some space in front of him, unceremoniously piling the loose papers, the diary and his own notes on one side and placed the book.

> " _For times long, there have been whispers of the Gold Man from the east. The man well-versed in the tricks of the Gods. I did not believe such tall tales—humans cannot transcend God, ability and zeal notwithstanding. But the landlady said that the Gold Man would be visiting out town today. I would like to see these "miracles" with my own eyes."_

Ed flipped the book to see its cover.  _The Mysteries and Magic called Alchemy._

Written by Nicolas Flamel. Hang on a second, didn't Teacher follow Flamel's principles?

Intrigued, he turned the page when another paragraph caught his eye.

> " _I am astounded. I have seen, but my mind refuses to accept. Logic is all that rules this world, nature thrives on it. Then how can something so unnatural be allowed? To get something, we have to give something, something of equal value. Something cannot come out of nothing!_
> 
> _But I have witnessed evidence to the contrary. I have seen a plant grow from a lone petal, child levitate, thunder crash and fire dance on the Gold Man's fingertips. People of my town are worshipping him, putting him on the pedestal of God. But what if he is the Devil?"_

Ed shook his head as he read the last line.

_You were damn right, Flamel._

The tome was a thick one, and heavily coded in Ancient Cretian and children's rhymes. He looked at the pile of paper on his side and sighed—it would be a lot of work to separate out those papers.

But his spirits soared...finally, he was onto something!

He decided to replace the other books back on the shelves—already the librarian was fuming at the extra work she had been dumped with. Within an hour, he looked pleased with himself. Not a book remained on the floor.

He picked up the tome and walked to the librarian's desk to get it checked out. He decided to read into his room where it was slightly cooler. Besides, he couldn't eat in the library and it was only so much he could drink.

"Checking out, Mr. Elric?" the librarian said, relief evident in her voice.

"At present yes," he shrugged, fanning himself with his hand.

She took out the register and noted down the title in it before turning it around for him to sign. He squiggled his signature with his left hand.

"You are a lefty?" she asked curiously.

Ed looked at the pen in his left hand before sighing.

"Not exactly...I couldn't use my right hand for a while so I had to train my left hand to write. But I guess I got used to it so I didn't bother reverting when my right hand became...well, okay," he said, an odd smile on his face.

The librarian smiled back.

"My niece fractured her right arm while playing so she too had to get used to writing with her left hand and the habit stuck. She still writes with her left hand now," she said, handing him the book.

"I know, it's a real drag changing the hands back," he concurred as he left the library.

* * *

**THE GUEST QUARTERS**

**PHOENIX PALACE, MILOS**

Ed stepped into the confines of the room, reveling in the solitude. He liked Julia, but he didn't want to hurt her; he was glad she had her meetings with the government officials all morning. And he might have been blind as a bat in the past but he was no longer naive to girls now.

But he needed to focus, not get all winded up like a teenager on a hormone overdose.

He placed the book on his bed before he went to the tiny kitchenette attached to his room. He was glad to it stocked full of food. After toasting a couple of bread slices over the burner and slathering it with jam and heating a plate of chicken fingers, he deemed his plate to be full of food and so he walked back to the bed.

Munching through his food, he set to work on the book. It was more like the diary he kept when he used to travel all over Amestris with Al.

Though deciphering it was tricky, he soon got the hang of it and before long, he had almost decoded half the book.

He placed the book on the bedside table, stretching his arms. He was surprised to find his backbone slightly stiff, the bones in his vertebrae groaning as his straightened his torso. He then looked out of the window.

The sun was  _lower_  in the horizon, the sky glowing a faint orange.

He checked his watch.

It was almost five in the evening.

He had been busy with the book for over seven hours!

He gingerly rubbed the back of his neck, massaging the kinks away. He smiled slightly when he thought what Al would have said had he been here now.

_Sheesh brother! You seriously don't know what it means to take things slowly, do you?_

A sense of nostalgia gripped his heart—he missed his brother.

* * *

**CHANG ROYAL MANSION**

**SHIN-KA, XING**

Al was busy reviewing May's notes on the Dragon Pulse when an attendant knocked the door of his room.

He lifted his head up.

"Yes?" he inquired.

"We have an overseas call from a Mister Edward Elric from Milos for you, sir," he said in the typical unimpassioned voice the royal attendants had.

Al jumped up onto his feet, delighted.

"If you would follow me, sir," he bowed before leading the way.

Al almost skipped after the man, trying to rein in his nerves to prevent snatching the receiver from him once they reached the phone room.

" _Al! How are you?"_

Al gripped the phone tightly to his ear, realising just how much he missed his brother.

"I am fine, you tell me. Have you busted your automail yet?" he asked, laughter bubbling in his chest.

" _Hey! I am not that much of a moron to bust my automail within a couple of weeks! Man, you are worse than Winry these days."_

Al could almost picture the frown on his brother's face.

"Speaking of Winry, did you propose to her yet? I do not recall you replying to my postcard," he said.

" _Well...um...er...I...you know..."_

"You did, or did not?"

" _I...um...did...it was all Equivalent Exchange..."_

As Ed proceeded to tell him exactly what happened, Al couldn't help but facepalm at the scenario.

"Brother...seriously? That was what you told her? I am just glad she didn't have a wrench with her," he said, slightly exasperated. Ed could be an alchemy genius but that was it. His social skills were close to zero.

"And how's Julia? I hope she's well," he added in a bid to keep up the conversation.

" _Julia's...fine,"_ Ed replied. Al noticed the way he hesitated and was about to ask when Ed interrupted with a question completely off-topic.

" _Hey Al, do know of any branch of alchemy that is medically specialized apart from alkahestry?"_

Al was thrown off a bit but he quickly regained himself. He searched through the plethora of accumulated facts in his brain, though not surprised when he couldn't come up with the answer.

"No, brother. Why though?"

" _It's nothing...I was just shooting in the dark here; I was researching something. Don't you think it's odd that no one came up with medical alchemy over the four hundred years since Xerxes apart from Hohenheim?"_

Al scratched his head with his free hand while puzzled at the direction the conversation was taking. Now that he thought about it, it  _was_ strange.

"What exactly are you researching, brother?" Al asked, his nerves all in tingles.

" _Don't worry much...I will keep you updated. Just confess to May while you can, okay?"_

Before Al could realise what his brother told him, the line was cut.

* * *

 

**MILITARY LIBRARY**

**WESTERN COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

Rei was sitting in her favourite corner on the second floor, creating a veritable wall around herself with the books she had pulled out of the shelves. It had been almost three days since she discussed about the Homunculus with the Colonel, but he hadn't called since then.

She could guess the reason, though.

She remembered the conversation she had with one Dr. Tim Marcoh who too was involved with that mess in Central.

 

> _It was one of the better days in the West—Rei sometimes felt the area was in deep competition to match the hellish heat of Ishval. As she went through her paperwork, a light knock on the door made her swing her head up._
> 
> " _General, there is a doctor who wants to talk to you. He has a permission slip from Central," said her secretary._
> 
> _Rei frowned—who is this person?_
> 
> " _Al right, let him in."_
> 
> _At first, she was horrified to see such a disfigured face. The man, clad in a light-coloured shirt and khaki pants, sat in front of her._
> 
> " _Oh, I am so sorry," she apologised quickly._
> 
> " _No no, I can understand, General. Such a reaction is natural," he said, waving away her apology. He gave her the permission slip._
> 
> _It was signed by Fuhrer Grumman himself, with a sentence scribbled underneath it._
> 
> " _Please assist him in whatever way you deem fit."_
> 
> _She placed the slip in the drawer before placing her hands on the table._
> 
> " _So Dr. Marcoh, how can I be of help?" she asked._
> 
> _The man looked a trifle uncomfortable, as if not knowing how to phrase his words._
> 
> " _You can speak freely, doctor. If need be, whatever you say will remain between you and me," she said, trying to relax him._
> 
> _Apparently, it seemed to have worked._
> 
> " _I used to be a State Alchemist, General. One who served in the Ishval Rebellion," he began._
> 
> _Rei's amber eyes hardened at the mention of the rebellion._
> 
> _It was her first assignment as a State Alchemist. And her worst nightmare._
> 
> " _You might not remember me, but I was one of the doctors assigned to your unit initially. You were the youngest State Alchemist to be deployed by the state..." he said._
> 
> " _I was sixteen," she whispered._
> 
> " _And you do know how the rebellion was connected to the mess that happened in Central," he said._
> 
> _Rei shook her head._
> 
> " _We know what the newspaper published. There is loads more under the surface, am I right Dr. Marcoh?"_
> 
> _The doctor nodded as he began to narrate the entire incident. The narration took a better part of the day and by the time it ended, both the speaker and the listener were exhausted._
> 
> " _Undead people...giant circles...Fuhrer Bradley himself...and Selim too...this is fantastic to the utmost extreme!" she said finally._
> 
> _The doctor sighed in agreement._
> 
> " _But you surely didn't come all the way to the West just to tell me story, did you?" she asked._
> 
> _Dr. Marcoh bent forward, leaning heavily on the table._
> 
> " _There is an Ishvalan monk who had been journeying with me after the Promised Day—we have been pulling out the Ishvalans from hiding and getting them re-settled in their homeland. But lately, the alchemical energy that runs through the ground has been unstable. Earlier, it was because of the Homunculi. But after the Promised Day, it had been corrected. And it is not a continuous occurrence...rather, the energy levels spike up and down in bursts. And the biggest anomaly is being found in Central. Fuhrer Grumman doesn't want to repeat what has happened...so researching this has been given top priority. We have found a lead that leads to Creta..."_
> 
> _Rei understood now what the Fuhrer wanted...that slimy old man!_
> 
> " _You are aware of the fact that Creta doesn't issue travel permits to Amestrians, right?" she said, her face impassive._
> 
> _Dr. Marcoh looked a bit uncomfortable._
> 
> " _I know, that is why I need your help. Creta hates Amestris...but it doesn't hate Milos..." he trailed off._
> 
> _Rei sighed. The man might be old, but he looked determined._
> 
> " _All right. Go to the immigration section and tell them to arrange for you and your companion to get to Creta. Tell them I sent you," she relented._
> 
> _The doctor looked relieved at her words._
> 
> " _Thank you General," he said gratefully._

Mustang must suspect someone from the inside is involved. After all, history has this uncanny ability to repeat itself.

 


	8. The Plot Thickens

* * *

**PRESENT DAY**

* * *

* * *

**MILITARY HOSPITAL**

**CENTRAL COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

Winry sat next to the sleeping blond man, his hand held in between both her palms as tears threatened to leak out of her eyes. Her automail kit lay forgotten at her feet—it was ironic that for once, Ed hadn't busted up her creations.

But she preferred an awake Ed with a trashed automail rather than a comatose one with functioning prosthetic.

The Brigadier General and his team had wisely decided not to enter the room, giving her some alone time with him.

Apart from the crisp sheets that betrayed inactivity, he looked as if he had just fallen asleep and would wake up at any moment.

_Oh Ed...why won't you wake up?_

It was almost dusk, the sun all but on the verge of disappearance. With a heavy heart, she replaced his hand on his chest before walking to the door. After a last look at the sleeping figure, she closed the door with a quiet  _click_  and went to the lounge where General Mustang and Major Hawkeye were waiting.

"If you wouldn't mind, Miss Rockbell..." Mustang began.

"Please General, call me Winry," she said quickly.

Mustang gave her a small smile before continuing. "Okay, Winry, if you wouldn't mind, would you accompany us to a place? I need to know something."

Winry nodded.

"Of course General. You said I might have an idea as to what's wrong with Ed," she said slowly.

Hawkeye patted her shoulder gently.

"Hey don't worry much. He is too stubborn to lose, you know," she said.

Winry sniffed.

"I know."

* * *

**CHRISTMAS BAR,**

**CENTRAL, AMESTRIS**

"I don't drink, General," Winry pointed out as she sat across the two soldiers.

Mustang grinned at her statement while Hawkeye sighed at his morbid amusement.

"Before the General feeds you a cock-and-bull story, let me clarify that we didn't bring you here to pump alcohol in your system. Rather, this bar belongs to the woman who raised the General and houses the girls who work as informants for us at times," she said.

Mustang visibly deflated, looking like a child whose candy was stolen.

"Oh," Winry managed to say.

"You can say this is the only place I have faith we will not be overheard," said Mustang, reverting to seriousness.

A waitress placed their drinks on the table—Winry sniffed hers discreetly. Yep, simple orange juice.

She tipped Mustang with a huge wink before leaving the table, her hips sashaying suggestively.

Hawkeye cleared her throat loudly.

"Oh yes," Mustang fumbled, tearing his eyes from the waitress and focussing on the young blonde opposite him.

"Do you remember Fullmetal's mother?"

* * *

**THREE YEARS AGO**

* * *

**CENTRAL COURT**

**PHOENIX PALACE, MILOS**

Ed sat on the marble platform that bordered the fountain, dipping his legs in the shallow pool and enjoying the cool wetness. The sun had long bid farewell for the day and the moon was yet to come out. The dusk was his favourite time of the day.

Nothing begins, nothing ends. For a few precious moments, the world gains an ethereal quality.

The time is thrown out of joint.

He shook his head—reading too many texts made him too  _wordy_  in his head.

He was glad that his  _problem_  hadn't raised its head yet. He wanted to do as much research as possible before the next attack.

He knew it was any day now...thinking that it was gone would be just the height of wishful thinking.

Soon, the flame orange gave way to indigo and finally, the stars began to shine in the sky. The fairy lights that decorated the Central Court sprang to life, bathing the compound in an unearthly glow.

_Winry would have liked it._

After what seemed like an hour, he regretfully pulled his legs out of the pool, jammed them in his sandals and made way to his room.

Unknown to him, a sad figure with orangish hair and teal eyes watched him walk away, tears streaming down her face.

* * *

**ALSTENHEIM'S CABIN**

**WESTERN COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!"

There is an angry Alstenheim. And there is a pissed Alstenheim.

But the terrible of all was the  _royally_ pissed Alstenheim.

"I am sorry, General," the unfortunate subordinate squeaked. He looked young, maybe a new one. But she was way beyond the point of consideration.

" _SORRY?!"_ she shrieked, slamming her palms on her desk so hard that a couple of paperweights fell onto the floor.

"Those books were goddamn important! I specifically ordered them to be brought straight to my office! How  _could_ they get misplaced, you idiot!" she yelled again, making him take several steps back.

Rei pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration...what the hell was happening here?

The subordinate stared down, as if transfixed by the weaving on the carpet.

"You know what, just leave. Send Sheska in, you will find her in the Investigations Office," she said tiredly.

She just hoped that Mustang was not exaggerating when he wrote about her memory retention capacity in the transfer form.

After the subordinate escaped out of her room, she sighed as she walked up to the cupboard that occupied the wall between the two windows behind her chair. The whisky bottles inside were mostly unopened—she was never the drinker. An occasional Martini was the farthest she went. But the day's events were almost making her hyperventilate.

_A little swig can't hurt, can it?_

She poured herself a little whisky on the rocks and downed it in one shot. Her brain ached for more but the knocking on the door made her think otherwise.

She quickly shut the cupboard and resumed her seat.

"Yes, come in," she called out.

Sheska looked worried and slightly terrified on being called. Rei smoothed and arranged her face into something she believed was a reassuring look, motioning her to occupy the empty chair in front of her.

"Yes, General?" Sheska began, uncertainly.

"Colonel Mustang said in your transfer order that you have an unusually retentive memory. That you remember everything you read," Rei began cautiously.

At the sound of "read", Sheska perked up.

"Yes General, in fact my first job was to write down the prisoner records which were lost when the Central Library, First Branch burned down," she said excitedly.

"You read the  _prisoner records_?" Rei asked, astounded.

"I ran out of books to read," Sheska replied sheepishly.

Rei took in a deep breath before asking the one question whose answer had the potential to change course of what was to come.

"Have you read the books kept in the second floor of the Military Library here in Western Command?" she asked, trying to keep the tension out of her voice.

Sheska frowned thoughtfully.

"Hmm...let me see...second floor...ummm...yeah, the last half of the floor. From rows AQ to ZB," she said finally.

Rei almost collapsed in relief—her books were from those rows. Fate wasn't that unkind after all.

"Do you remember?" she asked urgently.

"Those books? Yeah of course!" Sheska replied brightly.

Rei tore a page out of a discarded report and wrote down some ten titles.

"These books, you remember them?" she asked, giving her the list.

Sheska read through the list.

"Yes I do, in fact four of them were my favourites," she replied.

Rei exhaled slowly as she formed her next words.

"I know all of those books are thick ones, but can you write them down for me? As much word by word as possible? I would be temporarily removing you from the Investigations Department until this work is done. Tell no one about this—if anyone asks, tell that you are under strict orders from me to not reveal anything. You will be reporting directly to me for this duration. Am I understood?" Rei said, her eyes studying the bespectacled woman before her.

Though she would never admit it aloud, but Mustang had the tendency to surround himself with loyal, morally strong people. And Sheska seemed like a chip off the same block.

"Understood, General," said Sheska, standing up and saluting her sharply.

"Get to work first thing tomorrow morning. You are dismissed."

* * *

**MILOS-AMESTRIS BORDER**

"We traversed a country in three days...Ha!" Ling grinned, hiding behind the rocky outgrowths. Lan Fan sighed.

She can't believe that the king of one the most powerful countries in the world was sneaking around like a common illegal immigrant.

"But Your Majesty, certainly Lord Sang Yao's documents will permit us entry in Milos the  _normal_ way?" she asked.

Ling looked at her as if she had just transformed into a kitten.

"And lose the fun? Of course not. Besides, if we get caught, we have the documents to wring through. And if we don't, well, then whoever is following loses the trail."

The last words were said in a more serious tone.

Lan Fan looked surprised.

"Followed?" she asked.

In the moonlight, she could see conviction clearly etched in his happy-go-lucky face.

"Yes. Presently five miles away but then again, I could feel the murderous intent of the Fa clan from halfway around the world."

Lan Fan quickly expanded her senses and to her surprise and horror, she did feel tiny pinpricks of familiar bloodlust.

How could she have been so oblivious? How could she let her guard down?

Ling patted her shoulder as he resumed his watch, the subject of which she realised was the rocky outpost that marked the border of Amestris and Milos.

After what seemed like an eternity, he prodded her out of her doze. She quickly arranged her limbs in battle stance, her expression sheepish at the fact that she had fallen asleep.

"The guards are changing, you know the plan," he murmured, his legs coiling underneath him like a spring.

She nodded, taking out a couple of flash bombs and a potent smoke bomb from her hip pocket.

"First flash bomb to blind. Then a smoke bomb for confusion. Then another flash bomb for those who were smart or lucky enough to have closed their eyes for the first one," she said quickly.

Ling nodded.

As soon as the old guards walked away and the new guards were some ten feet away from the outpost, Lan Fan threw the first flash bomb.

The soldiers let out a cry of surprise. Ling quickly grabbed Lan Fan's automail arm and pulled her towards the outpost, his eyes shut and only his Dragon Pulse training guiding him.

"NOW, LAN FAN!"

Lan Fan let out the smoke bomb followed quickly by another flash bomb. The smoke made the light more blinding—even through her closed eyes, she could see the stark whiteness.

Soon, the rockiness under their feet gave way to a more travel-worn path but they didn't stop running until they covered a couple of miles.

Lan Fan opened her eyes. Ling was still holding her automail arm.

She was thankful that he couldn't see her blushing like a teenager in the monochrome environment.

They turned back to see the soldiers grappling with some people. Lan Fan widened her senses.

She felt a savage relief at the fact that their followers were caught by the Amestrian military.

"So Lan Fan, welcome to Milos!"

* * *

**THE GUEST QUARTERS**

**PHOENIX PALACE, MILOS**

_Knock knock knock!_

"Go away..." Ed mumbled.

_Knock knock knock!_

"Stop annoying me, Colonel Bastard..."

_Knock knock knock!_

"Hey Al, tell that idiot to stop that racket..."

_THUMP THUMP CRASH!_

Ed fell out of his bed, rolled unceremoniously in his bedclothes. The door, though stood solidly under the loud thumping, really looked in danger of getting knocked out of its hinges.

"Hey relax...am comin'", he mumbled, rolling out of the sheets and staggering towards the door.

He opened the door.

Only to find an overly cheerful Julia carrying a breakfast tray overflowing with food. His stomach rumbled at the heavenly aroma.

"The kitchen staff said you skipped lunch  _and_ dinner yesterday," she said marching into his room and placing the tray on the coffee table.

"Well, I was researching," Ed replied awkwardly, scratching the back of his head with his left hand.

"That doesn't mean you skip meals, Ed. I don't want a state visitor dying of—" she said, turning around to finally face him.

She blushed deep red, her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

"What?" Ed asked, bewildered.

She pointed at his torso, not trusting herself to speak.

"You are not wearing a shirt," she squeaked.

Ed looked down. And then looked up back to her.

She was looking everywhere  _but_ him.

"Come  _on_  Julia...It's not like I am nude or anything," he pointed out.

He  _was_ wearing his shorts so he was factually correct, but sadly oblivious.

Julia couldn't help but stare at him as he walked away to the wardrobe, grumbling under his breath. Sure, his chest was littered with battle scars—one on the left side of his abdomen looked really nasty—but  _God!_

She never realized he was  _that_ muscular and well-built. But then again, the life of an Amestrian State Alchemist was more of a field job than anything.

She blinked again, trying to control her breathing.

She couldn't freak out like a teenager...she was a prominent member of the government for God's sake!

Ed sat down on an armchair, next to the coffee table.

She sat down on the couch opposite him, glad that he had at least covered himself up with a shirt.

If he had noticed her mad blushing, he refused to comment on it.

"Are you going to watch me eat? I'm not  _that_ fascinating," he said, handing her a plate of toast and scrambled eggs. She finally looked at him in the face.

To her horror, he was smirking.

Julia left as soon as the tray was empty, mumbling something about a meeting. He couldn't help but grin at her behaviour.

 _Wish Winry was more like her_.

But then again, she was  _too_ used to seeing him shirtless to blush. Perhaps, falling for someone who knew you too well was not a good idea sometimes.

But as he flexed his left leg, he couldn't help but feel that perhaps falling for someone who actually knew him inside out was the best thing after all.

"Yo!"

Ed whirled back.

On the window sat a familiar figure with slant eyes and a ridiculously cheerful face, his hand raised in a wave.

Ed sat down with a loud  _thwump_  on the armchair.

"Seriously Ling? The window? Again?" he squeaked.

* * *

**CHANG ROYAL MANSION**

**SHIN-KA, XING**

"Ugghhh!"

Al ran his fingers through his hair for perhaps the millionth time now, making the blond strands stand upright and impart an uncharacteristic dishevelled look to his usually well-kept visage.

The Dragon Pulse training proved to be harder than he thought, though now, he could recognise the faint pinpricks of life before he collapsed due to exhaustion.

"Relax, Alphonse," said May, hovering in his vision her a worried mother hen. "You are trying to do too much too quickly."

Al gave her a rueful grin.

"You are making me look like Brother, you know," he said, leaning back on his arms.

"Yada yada," May huffed, sitting next to him. Al noticed her flushed cheeks.

"I was practising hand-to-hand combat downstairs," she said as a way of explanation.

"Oh," he said.

Al brought his hands before him, trying to concentrate on the method May had taught him almost a week back.

_Let go off all your thoughts. Concentrate on your surroundings. Like you are part of it. You are the world. The world is you. You are trying to see, but your eyes are closed. You want to feel the life around you. Breathe in, breathe out. Relax your body._

Suddenly behind the closed eyelids, he could make out a blinding orange flare with some really worrying black pinpricks on the upper right corner.

"May, did you injure your shoulder?" Al asked suddenly.

May gasped.

"How did you know?" she asked. Then she saw his closed eyes, his scrunched up face.

"What can you see?" she demanded.

"A bright orange flame with black pinpricks on the upper right corner," he answered before opening his eyes and exhaling loudly.

"Wow Alphonse! You did it! You can finally use the Dragon's Pulse!" she beamed, clapping her hands.

"Yeah I can, it's just that it makes me feel like jelly everytime I  _manage_ to feel something other than my own heartbeat," said Al dolefully.

May slapped his back good-naturedly before getting back on her feet.

"It's a start, Alphonse. And you are going to do great."

 


	9. No Answer

* * *

**PRESENT DAY**

* * *

**CHRISTMAS BAR**

**CENTRAL, AMESTRIS**

"You mean Mrs. Elric? Trisha Elric?" Winry asked, her blue eyes widening slightly.

Mustang nodded in response while Hawkeye maintained a silent vigil of the streets from the window.

"We, I mean Ed, Al and myself, we were all too young when Mrs. Elric died. Actually, I remember calling her Miss Trisha since she never actually married Mr. Hohenheim. After what happened in the Promised Day, I guess I know why."

Winry paused a little, staring at her glass of orange juice as if trying to sift through memories. Mustang opened his mouth to perhaps ask something but then thought better of it and just took a swig of the liquid in his glass.

"Miss Trisha was never the hardened type, you know. Resembool is pretty far out in the country, if you see what I mean. Most people are either farmers or herd cattle. We were the anomalies there, being in the automail business. Though the Elrics did have an apple farm, I have never seen Miss Trisha labour on it much. She was more of the soft person. Granny would often send workers to till the Elric's field during the sowing season, while we would pick the apples during harvesting time. Now that I think back, it was a little weird."

Winry looked up at the slight scratching noises to see the General taking notes.

"But General, I don't see where does this tie up with Ed?" she asked.

Mustang closed his eyes briefly before opening them; Winry saw the dark bruise-like shadows underneath them and realised that he was as much worried about him as she was.

"We don't know exactly what is afflicting Fullmetal at the moment," he said finally. Winry saw Hawkeye's fingers grip his wrist momentarily as a gesture of comfort before resuming their place around her glass. Winry gave herself a secret smile before she turned to face the General.

"But the preliminary observations indicate that he  _might_ be suffering from the same illness his mother died of. So we are pulling up every lead possible to figure it out," he said, his voice reflecting his physical and mental fatigue.

"So where is Al?" she asked.

"He went to the West to retrace Ed's journey—he spent a chunk of the last three years roaming the west so perhaps we can find some clues. Also, I am planning to send an emissary to Xing—I don't know but maybe that emperor might help us out. Alkahestry is a medical science after all—if he could send that Chang girl, she could perhaps see what we couldn't." Mustang answered, running his hand through his already messy hair.

Winry contemplated the General's plans though half of it went above her head. Her knowledge of alchemy was rudimentary but she knew that the man sitting opposite her was an accomplished alchemist. Even if Ed liked to bitch about him both in his face and behind it, she knew grudging admiration when she saw it.

"So Winry," Hawkeye began softly, tearing her eyes from the window to face the young blonde before her. "Do you remember how Ed and Al's mother was treated after she fell ill?"

Winry frowned as she tried to rack her brain—unlike the Elric brothers, she wasn't much interested in the logical side of life at that time and was content to play make-believe and still sleep with a stocking hanging on Christmas nights. She remembered visiting the Elric's house and help the brothers clean up, sometimes read out loud the newspaper to Miss Trisha but that was it. She was convinced that the older Elric was down with commonplace fever so she wasn't much bothered.

At least not until Miss Trisha's funeral.

"As far as I remember, Miss Trisha was diagnosed with normal cold and fever with a low blood pressure," she said slowly, mindful of the fact that the General was noting it down. "Granny believed that she had caught the virus that usually goes around with the season change, and the country doctor concurred the fact. But the anomaly is, no one dies because of that."

Winry felt the corner of her eyes prick a little; she raised her knuckles to rub away the tears before they began flowing in earnest.

The waitress brought their dinner and the silence was only broken by the clink of cutlery and tiny muffled sobs from Winry.

* * *

**MUSTANG'S OFFICE**

**CENTRAL COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

Mustang read through the notes he had written after conversing with Fullmetal's friend. That country doctor might know something, he mused as he wrote it down on his to-do list.

He checked the time, it was almost midnight. He was glad that Hawkeye had volunteered to drop Winry off to her hotel.

Central might have quietened down, but he wasn't much sure.

He thought of Ed in the hospital, a strange sense of desolation hitting him squarely on his chest. That kid had sacrificed so much, wasn't he entitled to a little bit of peace?

He recalled a day many years ago, a day when he caught Fullmetal moping in his dorm. Hughes had been with him then, and the bespectacled officer had nudged out of the young alchemist what he couldn't do in perhaps a million years.

" _I wish I had known what killed Mom...doc and Granny had said it was a fever but no fever makes you that weak! And certainly doesn't plague you over a year!"_

Mustang suddenly sat up, ramrod straight.

It surely  _wasn't_  the first time Fullmetal had shown the symptoms of that illness; in all probability, it must have been ailing him for a long time.

And if he knew that blond idiot well, he knew that the former alchemist must have kept it under wraps.

He dived for the bottom-most drawer and yanked it out, scrummaging through the sheets of papers until he found one covered with the familiar chicken-scratch.

> _Hey Smartypants,_
> 
> _I need to go west for my research, maybe Milos, Creta and perhaps Drachma too. Do get off your geriatric ass and get me the legal paperwork so that I can skip over without a hitch. And I have sent a copy of this letter to Hawkeye too so that she can threaten you if you slack off_ my  _paperwork._
> 
> _Do it fast, I don't have all the time of the world to wait for your stupid ass get up and work._
> 
> _Edward Elric._
> 
> _P.S.: I am almost as tall as you now. Just thought you should know._

His eyes narrowed at the veiled way in which Ed had betrayed himself.

 _So he did know of this illness thing,_ he mused, placing the letter back on his table. Perhaps that's what he wanted to go on a research trip in the first place.

He gripped his head with his hands in an attempt to pin down his jumping thoughts.

_Too many questions, no answers._

* * *

**CRIMSON HOTEL**

**WEST CITY, AMESTRIS**

In the end, Al couldn't track down the aura he felt that belonged to a Homunculus. Though Havoc wanted him to notify Mustang, Al hesitated. He had a lot on his plate at the moment, without adding another to the pile.

Besides, Al wasn't sure. It could also be the result of some amateur alchemist trying to do something crazy. Though logic begged to differ, Al pushed the incident out of his mind in order to focus the important point at hand.

What had his brother been doing?

Before he could move forward on that line, he knew he had to meet the woman who helmed the Western Command.

Major General Rei Alstenheim. He smothered a light chuckle with his knuckles—he could remember the reddening of the Brigadier General's face when he realised that Rei Alstenheim too had been promoted.

" _That twerp is going to glower all over me now,"_ he had mused.

Havoc was standing at the window, the ever-present cigarette adding to the air pollution. But the blond man's eyes looked too serious to be relaxing.

"Lieutenant, what is it?" Al asked.

"Don't you find it strange?" he said slowly, drawing in a particularly long breath of smoke. "The last three years hadn't been too peaceful as one would have liked. In fact, they were the reason the Brigadier General and the Major General got their respective promotions. And now Ed comes down with this condition...I might be wrong, but I get this feeling that this is way deeper than we comprehend it to be."

Al frowned at this hypothesis. He walked up to the older man and stood next to him, watching the quiet sleeping city.

"What happened over the last three years?"

* * *

**THREE YEARS AGO**

* * *

**THE GUEST QUARTERS**

**PHOENIX PALACE, MILOS**

"You crossed  _into_ Amestris using fake documents?"

"Yup!"

"Then you skipped  _out_ of Amestris like you vault over a picket fence?"

"Not a very flattering image but yeah, you seem to have the idea."

"And then you climb _in_ through a  _freaking window_ into  _my room_?!"

Ed's face wore a look of an impossible combination of surprise, worry, exasperation, irritation and pure bewilderment. Lan Fan credited him for still retaining his sanity.

But she soon thought of chucking it out of the window when he said the next words.

"But why the  _window_?" he moaned. "There's a  _door_ , you idiot! At this rate, I am going to get an incurable phobia of opened windows!"

Ling sprawled over the couch, rubbing his belly. He had wiped the kitchenette squeaky clean and had the gall to ask for more food. A murderous glare effectively put a stop to that wish.

Lan Fan stationed herself near the door. Though Ed had padlocked it shut, she wasn't taking any chances.

"Talking about incurable, tell me what you are hiding, Ed," Ling said, sitting up with an uncharacteristic seriousness on his face.

Ed froze, his indignation slipping away to reveal a slight raw pain before he smoothed up his face.

"I don't know what you are talking about," he said guardedly, arranging the research papers on his desk.

Ling stood up and walked up to him, placing a firm hand on his right shoulder.

"I can feel your  _chi_ , Ed," he said. "And I can wager that what I feel from your  _chi_ has no semblance to normalcy. Tell me before I force Lan Fan to get it out of you. And before you ask, let me inform you that she is really proficient in torturing information out of people-and her methods do not leave any physical scars."

Ed gulped as he cast a wary glance to the silent bodyguard. He knew Lan Fan considered him her friend, but she wouldn't cross-question Ling's orders.

"All right," he sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "Before I tell you, I want to know how did you find out?"

Ling gave him an easy smile as he plopped back onto the cushion.

"After you gave up your alchemy to bring back Al, I felt that momentous change in your  _chi_. It is like this, normal  _chi_ is like faint pinpricks of pale yellow—like normal people who don't use alchemy have. Bright flame orange belongs to those who frequently use alchemy—the reason is not known but it is popular belief in our country that alkahestrists—alchemists in your country—have a stronger connect with the Creator and thus burn brightly. You can call it the Truth if you wish."

Ed gave a non-committal grunt at that, motioning Ling to continue.

"Then those Homunculi, they burned red. A bright dangerous red. Enough to warn us that something is wrong."

Ling paused a little, as if unsure how to continue.

"So where did my  _chi_ fit in?" Ed asked, slightly apprehensive but curious all the same.

Ling gave a glance to Lan Fan before continuing.

"Your  _chi_ was a swirling, stormy grey," he said finally.

Ed looked puzzled. "So?"

Ling cleared his throat loudly before continuing.

"The only ones who's  _chi_ is like that are the ones on the verge of death."

* * *

**ALSTENHEIM'S CABIN**

**WESTERN COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

Rei knew she should be home now.

The clock had long struck the midnight hour.

Rei had dragged down the files from the Archives and was presently poring through them. Granted, Dr. Marcoh had told her about the Promised Day but she knew he had hidden stuff.

For instance, who exactly was this Hohenheim character? The way the doctor sounded, he seemed to be some kind of an immortal guy. A walking Philosopher's Stone.

That logic refused to penetrate her head. She wished this Homunculi business happened a week earlier-she could have weaseled out some answers from the Elric guy.

The Archive files were practically useless; they didn't tell her anything she didn't know. After flipping through the pages with increasing impatience, she finally flung the file across her desk and leaned back on her chair. She thought back to the afternoon when she saw that Ouraboros guy.

She steepled her chin over her fingers, elbows on the table as her brow furrowed in deep thought.

That Father person was supposedly responsible for the fiasco and he was eliminated—so was that tattoo guy a member of some cult?

But then again, how could she mistake that brief yet definitely  _red_ alchemical sparks that sprang up to heal the minuscule paper cut he got from the tissue paper?

She ran her fingers through the hair, frustrated beyond measure.

There was no other way. She had to go to Central.

She dialed the booking office from her private line.

"I need a ticket to Central as earliest as possible," she said in a clipped, no-nonsense tone.

"There's one tomorrow morning at six, lady," the operator grumbled. Apparently he had been enjoying his forty winks before being rudely awakened.

"Reserve one as Rei Alstenheim," she said before hanging up. Then, she called up her secretary.

"I am leaving the Command for a couple of days; am going to Central. Just inform Colonel Travis Baker and Colonel Leslie Gingham that they would helming it until I return," she said quickly.

"All right, General. Have a safe trip," she replied, her voice sleepy though did not lack the precision of someone used to taking orders at all unearthly hours.

As Rei replaced the receiver on the stand, she couldn't help but feel a shiver run down her spine. And it had nothing to do with the sudden burst of cold air that flooded the room.

* * *

**MUSTANG'S CABIN**

**CENTRAL COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

Colonel Roy Mustang was trying to skip off the stupid paperwork and sneak out of his office, and almost managed to accomplish the impossible if not for Havoc being the spoilsport.

"Hey boss, where do you think you are going?" he remarked, watching his superior officer sneak out of his inner office like a kid sneaking away candy from the fridge.

Hawkeye turned from her task of rearranging the bookshelves, her russet eyes narrowing slightly.

"Colonel, you have at least  _thirty-five_ files to sign away before noon," she said, slightly exasperated, the edge to her voice nowhere diminished even though she had a frilly pink apron over her uniform and a rainbow coloured duster in her hands.

Mustang's shoulders sagged as he took an about turn to his office, mumbling about how nicely time would have been spent in some  _beautiful, sane_ woman's company.

Hawkeye certainly had sharp ears.

"Talking about women, Colonel, you do remember that Major General Armstrong from Briggs would be visiting after lunch?" she said, dusting a piece of  _something_ Ed had claimed to be an ashtray, though it had a horrid-looking face bearing suspicious resemblance to the Colonel.

Mustang froze, looking more dejected than humanely possible.

"Of course yes, why wouldn't I remember the appointment with my own demise?" he sighed as he trooped back into his office.

"Wasn't it the Colonel who wanted to meet General Armstrong in the first place?" Fuery asked, slightly confused.

"Of course the Colonel did," Havoc replied nonchalantly, breathing in a huge puff of smoke. "But that doesn't mean he has to like it."

After the Promised Day, Dr. Marcoh had treated Havoc using the last Philosopher's Stone, restoring him the legs. After a few months of training, he was back to official duty. Though Mustang was a bit reluctant to use the stone for his eyesight, saying that it would be better used for treating the many injuries of others, it was under Grumman's threat of court martial for insubordination that he got his eyes treated.

Fuery was called back from the south and reinstated under his command. Though the office looked a bit empty, Mustang resisted the appointment of new officers to replace Breda and Falman. After all, Team Mustang was...a team. And once you were in, you were in for a lifetime. And you didn't get replaced just because you aren't around.

But apart from all the happy stars, the workload was simply enormous now. And especially when he fell back to his old procrastinating habits.

Fuery was just worried about the day when Hawkeye  _actually_ shoots him.

Late afternoon around four, a sharp knock was heard and the door opened.

"Good afternoon, Major General Armstrong," Hawkeye saluted, her eyes holding the rare respect and warmth. Fuery and Havoc did the same.

"Oh hello Riza, still keeping the matchstick in check, I see," Armstrong replied, a small smile on her lips. She might detest Hawkeye's superior, but she liked the Lieutenant.

Hawkeye smiled in response.

"No need, I will show myself to his office," she said, halting Hawkeye in the preparation of moving out of her table. "Keynes, why don't you wait for me here?"

Hawkeye finally noticed the man who accompanied the General.

He had a gangly kind of built, though his blue eyes had an intelligent shine to them.

"Lieutenant Andrew Keynes," he said, offering his hand. Hawkeye shook it, noting the firm yet warm quality of his handshake.

"You are certainly a change from Captain Buccaneer. He was a grizzly bear by himself," Havoc remarked. He offered his hand to the newcomer. "Lieutenant Jean Havoc, by the way."

Keynes laughed.

"I know and trust me, I have heard that more times than I could count. But I did wrestle one of those mountain bears and as you can see, I survived," he said, an easy smile on his lips.

"Oh really?" Fuery pipped up, clearly astonished. "I am Master Sergeant Kain Fuery. Nice to meet you, Lieutenant Keynes."

Keynes nodded. "It's a ritual kind of thing back up north. It is like you are not considered of the "Brigg's" men until you have wrestled those giants."

Havoc suddenly chuckled.

"Hey, did  _Falman_  ever wrestle a bear?" he asked, still smirking.

"Warrant Officer Falman?" Keynes scratched his chin thoughtfully. "No, I believe not. I think he and Seylum are the only ones who didn't do that. And Seylum couldn't coz she's a really fragile girl."

Havoc roared with laughter while Fuery couldn't help but chuckle lightly. Even Hawkeye smiled.

"So, you look like you are new to the military," Havoc said, still chortling. He seemed to like Keynes and his sense of humour.

"Well, two years into the blues, actually. I was with the Strategic Affairs Division before it was split up last year and I was transferred north. I admit I was apprehensive at first but now that I have got used to it, I wouldn't be anywhere else," Keynes replied. Havoc, Fuery and Hawkeye nodded, knowing fully well the depth of that loyalty.

"So," Keynes continued, throwing around his arms. "Care to tell me a little why we were called here?"

Hawkeye and Havoc looked at each other, trying to determine whether to tell him anything. They knew Keynes only since ten minutes ago. But then again, General Armstrong was known for her choice of men.

Hawkeye shrugged with an air of finality.

"Don't see why not."

 


	10. Chapter 10

**PRESENT DAY**

**CRIMSON HOTEL**

**WEST CITY, AMESTRIS**

Courtesy to his brother, Alphonse Elric had always been the early riser. Like in those days when they attended school, it was Al who had the unenviable task of dragging Ed out of the bed. Even after he had got back his body, Al was usually the one who rose first—be it in Resembool, Xing and now here in West City.

Havoc and he had been talking late into the night, and though nine-thirty could be hardly called early, yet he felt tired.

He washed up, had a shower and was in process of ordering a pot of coffee and some sandwiches when Havoc stirred.

"Mornin' already?" he groaned, burying his head in the pillow. Al chuckled.

"I have already ordered breakfast, Lieutenant. Let's eat up and go to the Command Centre as soon as possible," he said, feeling chirpy and happy for once. At last, he felt like he was  _doing_ something.

Havoc sat up, stretching his arms. "All right, kid. You are the boss."

After gobbling down the breakfast, the duo left the hotel and hailed a cab for the Command Centre. As they paid the fare and stood at the entrance, they were hailed by a familiar voice.

"Hey there! Jean! Al!"

Al tried to pinpoint the voice.

"Lieutenant Breda! Nice to see you again!" Al exclaimed while Breda and Havoc bumped fists.

"The General gave me call yesterday, telling me to expect you guys. Now come on in."

The usual hustle and bustle covered the lobby, the phones ringing and secretaries running around with files in their hands. Breda led them to the quieter environs upstairs and into an office with six desks, not unlike General Mustang's outer office back in Central.

Presently, the desks were empty, though their state of untidiness did say that their occupants would be returning soon.

"So what's the deal with Ed, Havoc?" Breda asked, seriousness all over his round face.

Havoc looked at Al before shaking his head. "No idea in the slightest. That is why we are here, trying to retrace what the Chief was up to."

Breda frowned, sitting atop one of the desks.

"Alstenheim's been scary the last two years—it's like she flipped a switch or something. I mean on the intimidation scale, she might give the Ice Queen a run for her money."

Al walked around, taking in the room. Only the reddish hue of the walls gave away it's location, otherwise it was the complete facsimile of the office he and his brother often frequented.

"Any idea why, Lieutenant?" he asked quietly.

Breda shook his head.

"Alstenheim was never chummy, but she wasn't hostile. Like you take Armstrong's temperament and mix a bit of Boss's behaviour. She would never say out loud but if she knew you were in a pickle, she would try her level best to pull you out."

Breda leapt off the table and began pacing the room.

"You remember she visited Central once, right?" he said suddenly.

Havoc scratched his chin. "Yeah, I remember. Just after Armstrong left. She dropped in straight into the office and almost gave the Hawk' eye a heart attack."

Havoc grinned at the memory.

"Heart attack?" Al and Breda questioned in unison.

"She was actually on the verge of taking out her pistol when Alstenheim burst into the room."

* * *

**THREE YEARS AGO**

* * *

**MUSTANG'S CABIN**

**CENTRAL COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

"Hawkeye, be reasonable. I  _cannot_ sign  _seventy-eight_ files in  _fifteen minutes_! It is humanely  _impossible_!" Mustang groaned, waving his hands like a windmill as he stood in the doorway of his office. Havoc and Fuery sniggered away, though Hawkeye looked anything but amused. In fact, she looked more livid.

"Sir, it is not  _our_ fault that you find  _doodling_ on the desk more productive than signing through the assigned paperwork. In fact, we have received  _seven_ black notices for blowing the deadline; more than rest of the command combined. You do realise this is a serious situation," Hawkeye said, exasperated.

Mustang cringed at the black notice reminder.

"Oh come on, Lieutenant. Those notices are trash..." he began weakly.

"Three more and you would be  _demoted_. And I was under the impression that the position of Fuhrer was  _up_ the ladder, not down," she said. She rarely lost her cool, but today was the limit. Already the headquarters were awash with rumours of Mustang being Grumman's lapdog, and she didn't want anymore joining the list. But the way her superior was working, he was bound to get kicked out.

Her hands were dangerously close to her trusty firearm when the door of the outer office swung open.

A woman walked in, her long black hair loose on her shoulders while her amber eyes swept the room with a burning intensity before they settled on her firearm.

Hawkeye looked at the stars on the newcomer's uniform. She was a Brigadier General!

And Hawkeye knew how the situation looked like; a subordinate threatening a superior and almost on the verge of drawing a firearm. She could get court-martialed for this!

She paled slightly. She risked a glance to the Colonel. To her surprise, there was a tight smile on his face though his eyes held confusion.

"A surprise indeed,  _Brigadier General_ ," he smirked.

"Still  _Colonel_ , eh?" she shot back. Then, she tipped Hawkeye with a grin.

"Oh don't bother. I know how snarky he gets. And he is a lazy ass to boot; he was shirking off work, wasn't he?" she sighed, a smile perking up a corner of her lips.

"I am Brigadier General Rei Alstenheim from Western Command," she added, her eyes dimming into a warm glow, prompting Hawkeye to relax.

"I apologize for the conduct," Hawkeye said.

Alstenheim waved away her apology. "I know he deserved it anyway. So rest assured, I did not see what you think I saw. The best way, don't you think?"

Hawkeye smiled.

"Thank you, General. I am grateful for your generosity," she said, bowing slightly.

Mustang walked towards her, hands crossed over his chest.

"What brings your here, Rei?" he asked guardedly.

Alstenheim frowned.

"I called you last week. Don't you remember? And it's urgent, Roy. Know this, I have a feeling something real crazy's gonna happen soon."

Mustang scribbled down an address on a piece of paper and gave it to her.

"Meet me there for dinner. We cannot talk here," he said, eliciting surprised looks from the others. They had never seen their superior talk this way to anyone apart from themselves, Hughes or the Elric brothers.

She pocketed the note, threw him a smirk and walked out.

She paused at the door.

"I was never here," she whispered before stepping out of the office.

* * *

**THE GUEST QUARTERS**

**PHOENIX PALACE, MILOS**

Ed sat in the tub, trying to block out the conversation he had with Ling the day before.

" _The only ones who's chi is like that are the ones on the verge of death."_

_Ed looked startled before he burst out laughing._

" _Ling, your acting skills are non-existent," he said, wiping his eyes. "You do not know how to be dramatic."_

_Ling for once did not share the blond's amusement._

" _I am not being dramatic, Ed. I am being realistic. And besides, there has been an abnormality even before you gave up alchemy. Tell me Ed, did anything life-threatening happen to you?"_

_Ed stopped laughing as a ghost of pain erupted in the left side of his abdomen._

" _Life-threatening?" he whispered but Ling wasn't fooled. He knew he struck gold._

" _So you did do that," Ling muttered._

" _Do what?" Ed shot back._

" _Use yourself as a Philosopher's Stone to heal up," he said distastefully._

" _And how did you come to that conclusion?" Ed asked, his eyes narrowing._

_Ling sighed. "I have been reading the chi before I could talk. I know when a chi's unsteady. Using yourself as a Philosopher's Stone, you disrupted the chi's natural flow. But your alchemy kept it at bay. But when you gave it up that day, the deterrent disappeared. And it's my hypothesis that you have not been keeping well since that day. Am I wrong, Ed?"_

_Ed sighed, staring at the carpet._

" _For all your nonsense, you sure are shrewd as hell Ling," he said finally._

_Ling exhaled noisily, leaning back on the armchair. "So that's what you have been researching, right?" he guessed. Ed nodded._

" _Why didn't you come to Xing? I could have got the best alkahestrist take a look at you," he suggested._

" _No Ling, it's not that simple. It's not just what I did at Baschool—I believe there is something in my genetic makeup that's not right," Ed said._

_Ling frowned._

" _Are you sure?" he prodded._

_Ed nodded. "I am. Mom died of this illness which had no mention in any book—alkahestry, alchemy or simple medical science—and I think it has something to do with Hohenheim."_

_Ling looked up at the last word._

" _Hohenheim? The guy who taught Xing alkahestry? The sage of the West? And...er...your dad," he trailed off, knowing Ed's rocky relationship with his father._

" _Yeah, the very same. I found some notes—something which says that a Philosopher's Stone, even if it's in human form, cannot partake the pleasures of life. Because it is a sin, it is forbidden to be happy."_

_Ling scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I know nothing about alchemy or alkahestry...but if you want, I could get the research department back home dig in some info."_

_Ed gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks a lot, Ling. I would appreciate it."_

_Ling was about to stand up when Ed opened his mouth. He grinned, knowing what the young alchemist wanted to say_

" _Don't worry, I won't let Al know."_

Ed sunk deeper into his bath, his breath bubbling on the surface.

He saved Al, didn't he? He paid for all his sins—he  _gave up_ alchemy for Heaven's sake! What else did that freaky grinning bastard want? Now did he have to pay for the crime of being  _born_? This was getting ridiculous.

He scrubbed his arms with the soap, feeling the cool water wash away the dust that seemed omnipresent in Milos. Ling had left as abruptly as he came, saying that he left his country unmanned. He couldn't help but shake his head at the unreality of the situation—the king of Xing  _traversed_ an entire goddamn country  _without_ an entourage,  _sneaked_  into another illegally only to have a chat with a former alchemist? Unpredictability assumed a new meaning with the slant-eyed guy at any rate.

But the information he gave was vital—and Ed realised that he might just  _not_ have enough time to dawdle.

He clenched and unclenched his right fist—it was fairer than his left since it was not exposed to the vagaries of nature for a good four years. But still, he got it back. He restored Al. He confessed to Winry.

Life was beginning to gain a semblance of normalcy—and he wouldn't let anyone, Truth or not, to snatch it away from him.

* * *

**CHRISTMAS BAR**

**CENTRAL, AMESTRIS**

"I don't drink, Roy," Rei muttered.

"Still can't hold your alcohol?" he smirked.

Rei let out a suffering sigh.

"I just prefer the long-term health benefits of pure fruit juice," she retorted, neatly placing her coat and hat to one side of the seat.

It was late evening, the sun had all but disappeared behind the tall buildings of Central; Rei could see the evening crowd pick up from the window.

"So what brings you here?" Roy asked casually. He had known Rei since they met in Ishval, and the girl had some uncanny similarities with  _another_ amber-eyed alchemist he knew. Her choice of words, for instance.

Though he would die rather admit it, she was a good person to helm a ship.

"Ouraboros tattoo, Dr. Marcoh and now, a couple of books missing...don't you find it strange?" she said, staring straight into his obsidian eyes.

"Books?" Roy inquired, surprised.

Rei nodded. She looked up to see the waitress place a glass of lemonade in front of her while Roy had a Scotch on the rocks.

"The usual?" she said, arching an eyebrow. He shrugged in answer, gulping down a bit of the brown liquid.

"Yeah, books," she said, with an air of continuing the conversation. "Those books which I pulled out the day you called me up. And it's crazy—who would want a bunch of books on mineral alchemy?"

Roy rested his chin on his interlocked fingers, staring at his glass in deep thought.

"Funny it is," he said finally, grabbing it and downing its contents in one gulp.

Rei observed his face—he did look tensed.

"Hey, what's up Roy? I can tell something major's going on here," she said quietly, nursing her drink.

She could feel his eyes boring into her skull, evaluating whether she was trustworthy.

"You know, I could always pull rank," she smirked. Roy chuckled in response.

"It's strange to hear someone  _else_ say that line. I now realise exactly how much that irked Fullmetal before," he sighed, placing his palms flat on the table. She saw a scar on his knuckles looking vaguely like a transmutation circle—he saw her gaze but didn't comment.

"What I am going to say might sound fantastical and treasonous but trust me, I have never been more sure in my entire life than this."

"Seven months after the Promised Day, the Geology Department unearthed some unusual tectonic activity all over Amestris and some parts of Drachma, Creta and Aerugo. A small, dedicated team comprising of those specialising in mineral-based alchemy and geologists was assigned to research into it. Dr. Marcoh and an Ishvalan monk named Scar travelled around, gathering evidence and visiting the actual places where the last abnormality was reported.

Tectonic activities like this mostly result into earthquakes but a year passed, nothing outward happened. And this got the higher-ups worried. Amestrian alchemy was flawed since creation, but rectified during the Promised Day. Earlier, this unbalanced alchemical energy was due to the innumerable souls coursing through the surface—what could be the reason now?

Some three-four months back, one of our informants told us about a nuclear geothermal experiment being carried out in Creta. Remember, they had done something on those lines before.

That's why I wanted your help in sending Dr. Marcoh to Creta along with Scar.

I talked with General Armstrong yesterday—Drachma is getting pretty restless these days. I wouldn't want a sudden attack weakening our defences if I can help it."

Rei listened through quietly, combining what he said now and what she knew from before.

"You have got your hands full at any rate," she said, finally sipping the now-warm lemonade.

He gave a tired smile.

"Yeah, right. But what about the Ouraboros guy you saw? Any leads?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"But I think this tectonic thing and the Ouraboros guy are related. That would explain why someone would steal those books. I am just glad Sheska's around...at least she could write them down for me."

Roy arched an eyebrow. "That trick, huh? I must admit, that girl has one amazing talent."

"True that," she said.

Just then, the waitress brought them their dinner and they ate quietly, each reflecting on the conversation they just had.

* * *

**DISCUSSION ROOM**

**PHOENIX PALACE, MILOS**

Julia was furious.

"I  _cannot_ do that, sir," she said quietly, though her teal eyes said something completely different. "With all due respect, he is a  _guest_. We cannot  _spy_  our guests!"

The President, a tall gaunt man of fifty with greying hair and hazel eyes, looked unabashed at her rage. "We  _have_ to maintain amicable relations with Creta, Julia. Stop acting like a child!"

"And so we spy on Amestrian State Alchemists? Are you serious?" Julia raged.

The President sighed. "Look, Julia. I don't like it anymore than you do. But the Cretans are unusually curious about the man we are hosting. And we are sworn to out people, remember that!"

Julia couldn't believe her ears. She looked around, only to see condescending glares and uncomfortable nods.

_No! This cannot happen!_

"We are not  _giving_ him up to the Cretan military," he said gently. "They just need to know what Mr. Elric is researching. That's all."

Julia began wringing her hands in despair, realizing that the council sided with the President.

"What if they decide that Ed is too dangerous for them and tell us to eliminate him?" she asked quietly.

The sound of a pin dropping would have been louder than a bomb blast in the silence that followed.

"We will see what we can do," the President said finally, sounding weary.

"He helped save our country, sir. Is this how we pay our debts?" she continued, unshed tears swimming in her teal eyes. "Is that how we do it?" she added in a louder voice.

The council looked uncomfortable, shuffling their feet.

She clenched her teeth and fisted her hands.

"You know what? Just leave it. I am telling Ed everything...and I am telling him to get out of this country. He cannot be safe in a place where he cannot protect his back on his own." With that, she marched out of the room, leaving an uneasy silence in her wake.

* * *

**ROCKBELL RESIDENCE**

**RESEMBOOL, AMESTRIS**

Winry straightened her back, feeling the bones pop back into their place and the rush of energy that follows it. The automail leg she was designing for a child proved to be more challenging than she had wagered, though she couldn't help but reminiscence. It felt like the time when she had helped Granny design Ed's first leg all those years ago.

_Your hands...they are meant to heal people...you gave me a leg to walk towards my future..._

Ed sure did have a way with words at times.

She rolled up the partially completed sheet and placed it in the box, tied up her hair into a ponytail and walked out to the porch. Den bounded up to her, nuzzling her knee in delight.

"Down, down, Den. You miss Ed too, don't you?" she said softly, bending down and nuzzling his ears. He grumbled in contentment as he sat down on his haunches.

It was late afternoon, the light breeze ruffling her hair as she sat down on the step next to Den and looking at the scenery.

She took out a well-worn piece of paper and began reading it.

_Dear Winry_

_I reached Milos a couple of days ago...and it's so hot out here! The automail leg's threatening to burn my skin off but the port's okay. Guess the gears in your brain do turn after all._

_How's old Granny and Den? Is she still spewing smoke like the train engines?_

_You remember Julia Crichton? That orange-haired girl who leapt around when we last turned up in Table City? She's now a political bigshot here and her guestroom's awesome. I mean, you can fit your entire house in my room._

_My research is going well, I think I will stay here a month. Before you ask, I have_ not  _trashed my automail. In fact, people have been fawning over it._

_Don't get too high up in the clouds, gearhead. Make me a lighter model when I come back. Write to Al too sometimes—though he's too busy with that Chang weirdo these days._

_Later,_

_Ed._

Winry couldn't help but feel a little jealous of Julia but then again, she knew Ed as well as Al—if nothing, he was bull-headedly stubborn. And to some extent, oblivious.

She grinned to herself—Ed was for keeps. She believed in him.

She just hoped he would come back to her safely.

 


	11. NIGHTMARES

**PRESENT DAY**

**MUSTANG'S CABIN**

**CENTRAL COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

Roy sat up with a jerk, only to fall off the couch with a nasty bump. The sunlight was streaming though the window.

_Man, I fell asleep on the couch of my own office._

He looked at his crumpled uniform with a grimace; it would be a job to explain Riza the state of his uniform. He could almost visualise her look of disapproval.

_Sheesh Ed, the things you make me do_ , he mused.

He heard movement in the outer office and before he could get up from the couch, the door opened. Riza hustled in with a pile of files blocking her view. She strode purposefully towards his desk and placed them neatly on one side, arranged the other loose papers into a respectable pile and fixed them under the paperweight.

He watched her work, fascinated by the easy grace with which she moved.

_Was she always this graceful?_

She dusted away the bookshelves, arranged a couple of mementos and placed the photographs correctly. She picked up one of them and stared at it.

Roy craned his neck to see what photograph she was seeing.

It was the photograph taken the day he was promoted—him standing in the full military regalia along with Havoc, Breda, Fuery, Falman and of course her. Even Black Hayate was in the picture, sitting smartly on his haunches next to her, a Second Lieutenant badge hanging proudly from his collar. He couldn't see her expression completely but he could make out that she was smiling.

"See something you like?" Roy asked quietly.

Riza almost dropped the photograph.

"Sir?" she almost cried out. "I didn't see you...when did you come in?"

Roy gave a dry laugh. "I was here since yesterday. Fell asleep on duty."

Riza looked at him oddly, before her face relaxed into a smile.

"You are worried about Edward, aren't you?" she asked softly. Roy looked at his hands, his black hair hiding his obsidian eyes.

"Funny, isn't it? I am Brigadier General, high up in the Central brass, and yet I cannot find anything to cure my one subordinate."

Riza looked out of the window, watching the sunlight stream onto the parade grounds.

"Isn't it funny that you of all people are worried about him, sir?" she said, a gentle smile playing on her lips.

She turned to see Roy on his feet, his jacket on his arms. "Yes, Riza. It is funny."

* * *

**WESTERN COMMAND**

**AMESTRIS**

Al couldn't help but laugh at Breda's narration. Lieutenant...no, Major Hawkeye and Brigadier General Mustang never changed.

"But Lieutenant Breda, why did she clam up all of a sudden?" he asked, more curious now since he believed that the Major General did have a friendly side after all.

"I dunno...after she returned from Central, she locked herself in. For all purposes, we only saw her when Chief came here from Milos," said Breda, pulling out a squashed chocolate bar from his pocket.

"You mean Brother?" Al asked excitedly.

Breda nodded darkly. "Yes, Al. It was Ed."

* * *

**THREE YEARS AGO**

* * *

**GUEST QUARTERS**

**PHOENIX PALACE, MILOS**

"You have to leave, Ed. It is dangerous here," Julia concluded, still breathless with worry.

Ed frowned at the news, his hands resting between his knees as his brow scrunched up in thought.

"I don't get it—why is Creta so bothered about  _my_ research?" he asked, still unclear.

Julia shrugged, shaking her head. "I dunno, political pressure is what I can figure out. Creta is constructing a geothermal plant somewhere which is supposed have some parameters in the illegal realm. And they have an undue interest in you. Milos, at the end of the day, is just a nation-state. It is smaller than Central and certainly cannot hold its own in terms of military prowess if Creta declares war on us. We would be annihilated. So..."

Ed nodded, getting her point.

He patted her shoulder gently as he walked up to the window. The afternoon sun shone brightly, bleaching off the colours from the landscape.

"Thanks for the warning, Julia. I appreciate it," he said softly. He heard a muted sob, making him turn.

Julia rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms, leaving telltale signs of redness in them.

"I am so sorry, Ed!" she wailed. "You have helped us so much...and  _this_ is the way we repay you!"

Ed shuffled his feet, looking a little uncomfortable. He always felt confused when someone cried.

"It's not your fault, Julia. You are looking after your people...and this is the best course of action. A King's foremost responsibility is to his people," Ed closed his eyes as an image of a certain slant-eyed Xingese king floated into his mind. "If you didn't protect your people, you don't deserve the mantle."

Julia gave him a watery smile, letting the blond relax a little.

"Even at such high stakes, you sought me out to warn—I am honoured, Julia. And I am glad that I have a friend like you," he added, a grateful smile on his lips.

She got back up on her feet and walked up to the door. "The East Gate guards change at seven pm. There's always a five minute window when no one guards the gate."

She turned around, her teal eyes shining brightly. "Be safe, Ed."

* * *

 

**WAXTORIA BAR**

**WEST CITY, AMESTRIS**

Rei had no idea what she was doing in the seediest of establishments in a disguise of a  _hooker_  of all things. She was clad in a black, rather  _revealing_ crop top with a red sheer jacket and a black miniskirt that barely concealed her butt. Thigh-high net stockings and three inch silver stilettos completed her ensemble. She was glad for the wig—she hoped no one would conclude that a  _Brigadier-General_ hid under the shocking pink bob and behind the grey contacts. Though the smokey eye-liner and blood-red lips did hide her true identity, she couldn't help but feel exposed.

And as men leered at her, she couldn't help but control the itch to draw a transmutation circle and blow their heads off.

And why was she here?

Just because  _Roy_ had an information broker here.

Go figure.

" _A prim and classy girl will stick out like a sore thumb there. Dress appropriately,"_ he had smirked.

That bastard! She longed to go back and wipe that smirk off his smug face.

But he had a point. No girl, or any human being in their right mind would come here and expect a civilised,  _legal_  entertainment. If anything, the bar was a crossroads for smugglers, murderers, blackmailers, hookers—anyone on the shady side of law could be seen here.

She sipped the cocktail and controlled the urge to spit it—it was horrible. It tasted more of the alcohol and next to none of the lime and orange that were supposed to present in it.

She checked her watch. It was already nine.

The info broker was getting late.

She was hungry—she had dashed home straight from the station, got dressed in the outfit Riza had picked up for her and had come here.

How she longed for a roast chicken, stew and a bed!

She felt some occupy the seat next to her on the bar—she swivelled on the stool to find herself face-to-face with a man.

He was clad in a black singlet, grey shorts and blue strap-on sandals. His brown hair was slightly long and hung loosely about his face, the bangs obscuring his chestnut eyes. He looked as someone who ran the tracks everyday—lean but muscular. His nose was straight and sharp, chin strong and determined and high cheekbones.

At present, his lips were curved up in a mocking grimace.

"If I had known the Colonel wanted me to see you, I would have turned tail," he laughed humorlessly, catching Rei offguard.

She cocked her head to one side, puzzled.

"How do you know who I am?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.

The man gave another mirthless laugh. "Lies, deception, concealment—they have no effect on me. The name's Travis Baker. I used to work as a research assistant under Dr. Marcoh before he skipped out of the military. And also," he turned to expose the back of his left shoulder.

Rei gasped, clapping her hands to her mouth in horror.

Even in the flickering dim lights of the pub, she could make out the etching.

It was an Ouraboros tattoo.

* * *

 

**MILOS-AMESTRIS BORDER**

**AMESTRIS**

Ed hated the desert. It was so easy to get lost in the unending, similar looking mounds of sand.

Skipping out of the East Gate was easy—Julia was right about the five-minute theory. It was as easy as strolling in a park.

He was glad he had deciphered most of Flamel's research—and the rest of the pages he just brought with him. They had been collecting dust for some four hundred years now, he was sure no one's going to miss them all of a sudden. But that along with another tome from the palace library not to mention the extensive notebooks he had smuggled from the records department had increased the weight of his suitcase exponentially—but he didn't care.

He needed them, otherwise his trip to Milos was all for naught.

And he had to reach West City before the Milosian brass realised he was missing. Julia had given him a forty-eight hour window to make it to the Western Command before all hell broke loose.

He just hoped they wouldn't bother to check the records—it was akin to stealing state secrets after all.

He cringed. He wasn't stealing them, he had every intention of returning them safely. So that meant he was  _borrowing_ the notes, right?

He sighed as he ploughed on. At least the moon shone brightly, helping him keep track of the direction.

The watch showed that it was almost midnight—his feet ached and his automail was clogged with sand, but he wanted to get to a town as soon as possible. He didn't fancy walking on the sand during daytime.

However unlikely he sounded, he could swear that the suitcase was gaining weight by the second, threatening to pull his right arm out of the socket. He walked ahead relentlessly... _one more step...one more..._

Without warning, a thundering pain shot up the left side of his chest. The suitcase fell with a light  _thwump_  on the sand due to his slackened grip.

He dropped to his knees as another wave of pain racked through his entire body...he felt as if someone had pierced a serrated knife into his heart and was slowly turning it inside. His fingers scabbled over it... _anything to make it stop..._

_Not now...not here...not when he almost had the answer..._

_Not in the middle of nowhere..._

_He couldn't die here...not now...not when Al was back...not when everything was back to normal..._

As he fell face-first on the stone cold sand, he could just whisper a curse to his grinning white nemesis before he slipped into oblivion.

* * *

 

**21B, CAMELOT APARTMENTS**

**WEST CITY, AMESTRIS**

Rei was shocked.

She was stunned.

Flabbergasted. Astounded. Bewildered. Flummoxed.

And she was running out of adjectives.

It was her home, yet it couldn't feel anymore hostile at the moment. Especially when the origin of all the confusion sat on her sofa nonchalantly, his right leg crossed over his left as he looked around the apartment with genuine curiosity.

"Nice pad, General," he remarked finally.

Rei had shed her wig and contacts and draped on her military-issue coat over her rather  _risque_  clothes at the first opportunity. Then she went to the bathroom and washed away her make-up, leaving behind a rather pale face and slightly dimmed pair of eyes.

"You." She pointed at his languid figure. "You are a Homunculus."

Travis nodded.

"The last one. The eighth Homunculus. But I wasn't perfect...I didn't meet their standards as such so I was weeded out. But Dr. Marcoh managed to fudge up some documents and helped me escape. Now, I am just a car mechanic working at the highway garage apart from chipping in as an info broker."

Rei sat down on the armchair. "Does Roy know about you?"

Travis shook his head. "No one knows...Dr. Marcoh rescued me, but he doesn't know my present identity. Think of it as an unlikely yet currently occurring coincidence."

Rei stared at him, not believing her eyes.

"You are an honest-to-God Homunculus sitting in front of me and toting the tattoo to boot and you are  _telling_ me that  _you had nothing to do with the Promised Day and other goddamn trouble involving you guys?_ " she almost shrieked.

Travis held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I know where you are coming from and the situation doesn't make me look trustworthy...but yeah, I was sitting put like a good boy and repairing cars since Ishbal. I am just your nextdoor immortal car-mechanic."

Rei gasped. "You are  _immortal_?" she exclaimed, though her voice dropped a couple of notches.

"Comes with the thing...Homunculus are supposed to be immortal. But I self-heal only small wounds. Thrust in a knife and I am as good as dead. My core is made of Red Water, the predecessor of the Philosopher's Stone—and it's not that hardy," he shrugged.

Rei couldn't believe what was happening. The guy she had been hunting for—was sitting in front of her on her freaking sofa!

"Travis...what sort of Homunculus are you? As far as I know, they had names of the Seven Sins," she said.

Travis looked a bit amused, though the amusement didn't reach his eyes.

"I was code-named Rage—I could see through disguises, deception, lies...stuff like that. But I wasn't as powerful as the others. And I had a bit of conscience. I wanted out...but Father made it sure that you just don't hand in your resignation; it's lifetime service or death."

He got up and walked to the wall, examining a landscape painting as he continued. "I was created before Ishbal—before those people got the idea of mass sacrifices. Though Father wasn't much keen on this path of research—he created a  _country_  to aid the transmutation for crying out loud. But some of the docs were in for the knowledge thing—wanted to substitute the human sacrifice thing. They came up with Red Water—a weak substitute for the stone. It was said that only I made it out alive."

He turned around to see Rei looking at him, transfixed.

"If you don't mind, could I get some water? Parched throat," he said, sounding apologetic as he pointed his throat with a finger.

She nodded, jumping on her feet as she hurried into the kitchen. Moments later, she came back with a glass filled to the brim in one hand while a jug in the other.

He chugged down the water gratefully before continuing. "Dr. Marcoh realised that I was soon on the removal list so he got me out here to the West. It was least affected by the Ishbal uprising and thus was safe. I still remember the military chaos though—everyone who was posted in Western Command at that time had no wish to be deployed to the East. I take it you were in Ishbal too?"

Rei nodded as she resumed her seat on the couch. "It was hell on earth," she whispered.

He replaced the glass on the coffee table as he sat down back on the sofa.

"Technically, I don't have to eat though my body requires water to survive. One of the many shortcomings that gold-toothed bastard happily spouted off when proving my unworthiness to Father." He grimaced at some long-lost memory.

Rei couldn't help but sympathise with him.

"How did you eke out a living? I mean, it's been a long time since Ishbal...surely people have noticed that you don't age?" she asked curiously.

He smirked at her question. "I skipped around the entire Western Province...Pendleton, Harkshaw, Lamiscare, Selaton...in fact, I know this province like the back of my hand. Two years per city before I leave for good. Hence, I have remained safe. Not to mention the fact that a Xingese kid taught me the merits of Dragon Pulse a few years ago—I can hide my aura from the Homunculi at least, though a well-trained alkahestrist can easily find me."

His smirk reduced to a grimace as he stared at his hands. "Not ageing isn't a utopian concept, you know," he said softly.

He lifted his eyes to see a pair of blazing amber orbs. "Fire away, Brigadier-General," he said, a bit more strongly.

Rei composed her face to look more like the one her subordinates were accustomed to see—a cool, calculating visage that could say the most chilling of news with a straight, unwavering voice.

"The first question...how on earth can you move around with the tattoo visible like that?" she burst out. To her surprise, the burning question was met with a chuckle.

"That Ouraboros thing? Sheesh General, you should know your city better. There's a cult gang running loose in the streets—harmless from the legal point of view but a parent's nightmare all the same. They chose this symbol after the Promised Day fiasco...apparently it was supposed to be cool. Whatever the reason, I am glad. I hated to wear stuffy shirts in this blistering weather."

Rei relaxed slightly. "Roy told me you had info. Care to tell?"

Travis grinned. "Now you are talking."

 


	12. ANTICIPATION

* * *

**THREE YEARS AGO**

* * *

**21B, CAMELOT APARTMENTS**

**WEST CITY, AMESTRIS**

"You know about the geo-thermal stuff the Cretans are busy with, right?" said Travis, jumping straight to the point.

"Yeah I know. Roy told me about it," Rei nodded. It was no hush-and-cloak news anymore—the newspapers were running riot with it, along with the conspiracy theorists suggesting everything from free electricity to crazy nuclear bombs. As if anyone needed a nuclear bomb to replace a certain deranged Flame Alchemist.

Or herself for the matter.

For all that's true, the alchemists could be human weapons, but at the end of the day were still human. And as long as they were human, they still had a conscience. Which could be jogged, if situation called.

She hardly expected the nuclear bomb to stop blowing itself up in the middle of ignition.

"That's plain bullshit," Travis said evenly.

Rei had to admit, this guy had the propensity to deliver the most radical of news with a straight face.

"Excuse me?" she asked, surprised. "What's bullshit?"

"The Cretan geothermal nonsense. There is no such thing," he replied, staring straight at her. "That informant...he just planted a red herring. I wager he's a Cretan spy, or got vested interests. Maybe his family's threatened. But the bottom-line is, he lied. The tectonic thing? I have been having this feeling since the so-called Promised Day—something is still here. Crawling under our feet."

Rei stared at the plush carpet of the room, trying to digest the new information.

"But the alkahestry team that visited from Xing passed the clean bill of health two years ago," she countered, though she could feel her brain mull over the logic and begin drawing conclusions.

"Whom are you kidding?" Travis muttered. "I can see from your face—you are getting it, aren't you? Dragon Pulse is not omnipotent, and trust me when I say this—that Father guy, he  _always_ has a back-up plan. Certainly nothing as extravagant as the 400-year one, but  _something_  nevertheless. And I have good reason to believe that this time, the lab-rat is Creta."

* * *

**CAMDEN VILLAGE**

**NEAR MILOS-AMESTRIS BORDER, AMESTRIS**

" _Where is dad, mom?"_

" _He's out working, dear. You know he is a busy man..."_

" _But everyone's dad comes to school for the PTA meeting, mom. Why doesn't he come to ours?"_

" _Ed dear, he is busy...surely you don't thing he is avoiding you two, do you?"_

" _Does Dad love us, Mom?"_

" _Of course, dear. You and Al are the best little boys anyone could have."_

The darkness seemed inviting, almost seductive. He could feel it lulling him to sleep...to encase himself in the eternal slumber.

It was so comfortable...

_Come back to me, Ed. That's a promise..._

The ghost of a flying wrench brought the memory of blonde hair, smell of machine oil and the feel of sunshine on his back.

He tried to open his eyelids. Goddamn it, they felt as heavy as leadweights!

After a few tries, he managed to open them a slit.

He realised that there was a canopy above his head. And he was laid on some hard mattress. Thankfully his automail leg was still attached—apparently his rescuer didn't have any qualms about it.

Talking about rescuers...

He took a deep breath and lifted his torso. His body ached as if they had been beaten to an inch of his life while his head throbbed like hell. All in all, he felt like crap.

Someone, most probably his rescuer, had stripped him off his clothes and dressed him in pyjamas made of some sort of rough cotton. A slow blush worked up his face—he fervently hoped Winry never got the wind of this.

The absence of the familiar weight of his pocket watch made him panic—who on earth would believe he was a State Alchemist if he couldn't produce the watch? Especially when he couldn't perform alchemy? He looked around frantically, only to see that gleaming timepiece lying peacefully on a rickety table near his cot.

He grabbed it and clicked it open. His old reminder was still etched in. He let out a grateful sigh. He quickly spied his suitcase which was standing innocently near the wall. Now as he looked around, he seemed to be in some sort of hut, though the foundations of the structure seemed firm. The walls were cream-coloured, the paint peeling off in places. It was sparsely furnished—apart from his cot and the rickety table, there was just a cupboard that looked equally derelict.

It was apparent that this wasn't a place which was used often.

He heard thundering footsteps come from the door and before he could nudge his sluggish mind into motion, the door opened.

A blond, bespectacled man stood at the doorway, clad in a loose shirt and trousers while a grin played on his lips.

"Long time no see, eh Fullmetal Alchemist?"

* * *

**THE ROYAL PALACE**

**SHIN-KA, XING**

Ling was bored. Bored beyond reason...almost to death.

_If Ying Fa doesn't manage to kill me, politics will_ , he reflected darkly as he listened to some clan-leader spout off nonsensical reasons as to why  _his_ clan ought to have the sole rights to the fertile regions in the north.

He sighed, earning a disapproving glare from his ever-faithful Lan Fan though he frankly couldn't care less. He wanted to get out.

"...but I agree—Sion's lands are fertile but that's the  _only_ livelihood of the Sion clan!" his advisor tried to reason, but Ling knew. That old spitmouth had a long grudge with the Sions, and he was not going to back out so easily.

Almost a week had passed since he met Ed and true to his word he hadn't told Al about it. But he had his misgivings—was he entitled to withhold such information? He gave a mental shake of his head, trying to figure out what was happening.

_Damn it Ed, you never stop worrying people even though you try as hell to clamp stuff down._

The brand new Alkahestry Institute he had set up near the palace had already begun to research Ed's conditions in a discreet manner under his orders, but he wasn't confident. He knew Ed was one hell of an alchemist.

If he couldn't figure it out, could the researchers at the institute can?

Ling couldn't help but cross his fingers and hope.

* * *

**CHANG ROYAL MANSION**

**SHIN-KA, XING**

Al dove into his noodle-bowl, not caring that he looked like someone ravenous and at the edge of death due to hunger. The Dragon Pulse training was seriously mopping the floor with him and he could safely say that his present appetite was leaps and bounds greater than his brother's.

"Relax Alphonse. You are going to get the shrimp down the wrong way," May laughed as she ate her own lunch in more prim manner.

Al refrained from answering until he downed the last drop of the thick broth after which he rubbed his stomach in contentment.

"Does this Dragon Pulse take out so much energy everytime?" he asked, placing his chopsticks on the side of the bowl.

May chewed her carrot carefully before answering. "Not exactly. It's just that your alchemical circuits are getting rewired—you are accustomed to the alchemy of your country which doesn't use  _chi_ as such. But alkahestry on the other hand is highly dependent on  _chi._ Don't you worry, your body's just in the process of adaptation. That's all."

Al smiled, pouring himself a glass of iced tea. "You don't think getting stuck in an armour could be a reason?"

May shook her head. "Nope. You were an accomplished alchemist before you got transmuted into the armour—the circuits were already present in your body. And this hunger thing is pretty normal—though there are very few people who know both alchemy and alkahestry. My elder half-sister taught an Amestrian alchemist once the benefits of Dragon Pulse a long time ago. Though he could barely make it to the half of what you have done, he couldn't stop raiding the store. In fact, it is said he ate an amount equivalent to a small army. So there."

Al's smile now had the touch of reassurance as he drank the iced tea. True, Xing had a myriad of dishes to taste but he was worried that the amount he had been eating could send him into a gastric shock.

"So May, after Dragon Pulse what's next?" he asked curiously. He had been here for almost a month and a half now, but he was still struggling with the basics of the Dragon Pulse.

"Dragon Pulse expertise is the job half done. Then comes the theories of alkahestry and the basic symbology we use for drawing circles—a piece of cake as far as you are concerned. And seriously, stop fretting over it, Al. You might be a genius or something but learning something completely different takes  _time_ , you know. Besides, you are progressing faster than anyone I know—hell, it took  _me_ three months to get hang of the Dragon's pulse and that's when I have studied alkahestry all my life!" May pouted.

Al couldn't help but grin at her. "All right-o, teacher. Your wish is my command."

* * *

**CAMDEN VILLAGE**

**NEAR MILOS-AMESTRIS BORDER**

**AMESTRIS**

"You are the lion guy!" Ed exclaimed, following it with a wince as he jumped up in his cot against his better judgement.

"It is Heinkel! Is that too hard a name to remember?" the blond man sighed, removing his glasses to clean them up before he perched them over the bridge of his nose. "But about that later...what happened to you? A village kid found you in the middle of the desert today morning—Darius almost crossed you off as dead. Thank goodness there's a healer worth her salt in this village."

Ed sat up slowly, trying to control his winces as the muscles over his torso protested at the action.

"It's nothing," he muttered.

"And I am a flying pig and Darius is Fuhrer. Not to mention Yoki developed a conscience," Heinkel snorted as he dragged an empty trunk and sat on it.

"So what are you guys doing here?" Ed asked in an attempt to change the subject.

"We run a circus now...the three of us. We travel to small towns and villages—places untouched and far away from the bustle and progress of the bigger cities and put up shows. Surprisingly, we have got quite popular. But don't you change the subject—tell me what's up?" Heinkel's grim voice and the way his eyes narrowed suddenly resembled the  _other,_ animal part of him. Ed gulped slightly.

"You not planning to go lion on me, are you?" he asked weakly.

"Who knows?" Heinkel replied ambivalently.

Ed sighed. If anything, the two chimera-cum-former comrades knew him quite well. And unlike Al, they were pretty eager to use force if necessary.

"I have this disease...which I guess is genetic cause my mom died of the same. It kind of atrophies the heart—like the organ dries up and dies. And the thing is, there is no documented case of this particular disease—it doesn't even have a name. My alchemy must have had kept it at bay but since I gave it up on the Promised Day, the last barrier to its progress was removed," Ed said, twisting the thin sheet in his hands.

"So how are you gonna treat it?" Heinkel asked seriously.

"I dunno...that's why I went to Milos to research. There I found some old notes...pertaining to the Philosopher's stone and how it is supposed to be the biggest taboo in existence. But I haven't decoded the notes completely...political trouble so I had to make a run for it. Though I did...er... _borrow_  a few books..."

"What do you say? You seriously are a trouble magnet," the older man said, shaking his head. "I don't know alchemy or the stuff you meddle in, but I know this—don't bottle up things. There are people worried about you, you know. Your brother, for one. I don't think you should hide it from him."

Ed sat up straight, incredulity written on his face.

"How did you know I hid this from Al?" he asked, surprised.

Heinkel smiled. "I know, kiddo. I suspect you haven't told him about Baschool, right?"

Ed nodded his head, slightly bemused.

Heinkel gave a shrug. "That's what cinches it. You refuse to worry other people...but sometimes, you take away the right other people have of getting burdened. For starters, that's what family is—getting saddled by troubles is okay, so is sharing it with others. I am surprised to be the one lecturing about it but, go on and  _ask_  for help. You won't die if you do."

Ed didn't realise his mouth was open as the man moved out of the room.

* * *

**RUBY'S CAFE**

**WEST CITY, AMESTRIS**

Rei was sitting under one of the many brightly coloured umbrellas of the café she haunted on her days off—the coffee and blueberry muffins were to die for.

It had almost been a week since she had that fateful conversation with Travis.

She bit into her muffin. The Sunday breakfast crowd was already moving out—she could hear children clamouring for treats as they walked down the footpath with their parents. Clad in a pale mauve t-shirt and white running shorts and sandals with her hair hanging loose over her back, she looked part of the crowd. But the distant look on her face added more years than she actually was.

She reached inside her canvas bag and took out a sheaf of papers—the copies which Sheska made. She just hoped that the open ambience would prove to be conducive to thinking than her stuffy office.

She sipped her coffee as she skimmed through the pages.

Travis said that some remnants of the previous anomaly had survived in the crust, leading to the strange tectonic activities. If that was the case, would it not be better if the extra energy be siphoned off in some way?

She rubbed her nose in frustration—that idiot made her swear that she keep his Homunculus thing secret and she couldn't blame him. After that Promised Day fiasco, who in the right mind would trust him?

Which again proved the fact that she was losing her marbles.

She downed the coffee in one go, the caffeine delivering a sharp kick to her cogitative processes. She couldn't possible tell Roy about this—she was sure the megalomaniac bastard would see to it that Travis is locked behind the laboratory bars for good. He had a grudge against their entire kind—wasn't his best friend killed by one of them?

Nope, she had to do it in a way in which Travis wasn't implicated. But this particular information could only come out of the horse's mouth...so how on earth was she going to explain that?

"Brigadier General Rei Alstenheim?"

Rei snapped up her head only to be assaulted by a vision of blond.

"Fullmetal? What on  _earth_ are you  _doing_ here?"

* * *

**MUSTANG'S CABIN**

**CENTRAL COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

"Funny...I was sure Rei would have called to yell at me by now. It has almost been a week," Roy mused, twirling the pen in his hand.

"Sir, the paperwork for the dam construction up north is due in an hour," Riza reminded him.

"I know, Hawkeye," Roy sighed, signing his name over yet another dotted line. Did he seriously learn alchemy to sign his name a million times per day?

"But I feel something's up. Rei has gone quiet...along with all my spies in the west. Dr. Marcoh didn't make it to the last week's check-in and his report is overdue almost a month. That info-broker I got into contact with, the one I sent to meet up with Rei—it seems he has disappeared off the very face of this planet. I don't like this, Hawkeye. And especially since Fullmetal is still out in the west." Roy ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes clouded over with concern.

"Is that worry I hear for Ed, sir?" Riza smiled.

Roy shook his head in denial but she wasn't stupid. It was written all over his face.

"I have stopped receiving reports from Milos—telephonic contact is restricted to diplomatic purposes only. And all my instincts are screaming trouble...just like they screamed during the Promised Day. And in Ishbal."

Riza's brows furrowed as the worry caught her too in its wake.

"I will see if I can get Master Sergeant Fuery establish some connection to Lieutenant Breda," Riza said, starting towards the outer office.

"No use Hawkeye. I got the Intelligence department try out. Not working," Roy sighed.

"But you forget Kain Fuery's  _other_  abilities include hacking and establishing illegal connections, sir. Though I dare say he would  _ever_  do such a thing," Riza smirked, earning a look of surprise on his face.

"Sir, you forget the tenacity of the team sometimes. Please excuse me."

As Roy stared at her retreating back, he couldn't help but smile. His team was seriously a force to reckon with.

* * *

**INTELLIGENCE DIVISION**

**WESTERN COMMAND**

The operator incharge of the transmission lines was slightly puzzled. The tiny red lights which marked the private lines were blinking a bit  _too_ erratically for his taste. He looked at the line, puzzled as to whether he should unplug it or not.

"Operator, what is it?" his supervisor asked as she took in his confused look.

"I don't know, officer. These lines...I don't  _think_  they are supposed to blink this much."

The supervisor frowned, looking intently at the lights. Then suddenly, the blinking made sense.

"Bloody hell! Unplug those lines, we are being hacked!" she yelled, yanking out the cables quickly as the other operators following suit.

"I want a team to retrace the hacker's path. General Alstenheim has given us strict instructions to not let  _any outsider contact through the personal lines_. Am I understood?"

The operators saluted "Yes ma'am!" before scrambling to their respective posts.

* * *

 

**21B CAMELOT APARTMENTS**

**WEST CITY, AMESTRIS**

"What is so secret that you couldn't talk with me in the café, Fullmetal?" Rei asked, gesturing the blond alchemist towards the sofa as she seated herself on the couch.

"It's kind of a strange errand but I really need your help, General," Ed replied.

Rei's eyes narrowed—what now? After Travis, she doubted she could take in anymore shocks.

"But before that, I need your word that you wouldn't repeat this conversation to my CO, Colonel Roy Mustang from Central," he added, looking earnestly to those amber eyes not unlike his own.

Rei felt a strange sense of deja-vu take over her...man, this was not happening! Why on earth are people so eager to hide stuff from Roy? For now, she had put the Western Command in a temporary lockdown under the pretext of an emergency security tune-up, but she couldn't keep up the pretense for long. The higher brass are going to smell something fishy...no one's  _that_  oblivious.

But she couldn't help but feel curious—what secret did the People's Alchemist, the Hero of the People, the Vanquisher of God himself has to hide from his own CO?

Curiosity killed the cat, and was very much going to be the reason of her own demise.

Oh hell. Screw it.

She sighed.

"Okay Fullmetal. What is it? Don't tell me you are a Homunculus too!"


	13. USO

_**A synopsis...** _

_After the events of the Promised Day, Ed and Al returned to Resembool and tried to immerse themselves in the idyllic life of the country. But unknown to the Rockbells and Al, Ed had begun to develop a slow yet steadily growing illness which was certainly more dangerous than a mere common cold. Soon, he realised that this wasn't documented in any records, which spurred him to undertake a journey to the western countries. In Milos, he decoded accounts by one Nicholas Flamel, the very person who was followed by his teacher Izumi Curtis._

_But before he could delve deeper into the documents, his friend Julia advised him to leave the country as the Cretans were showing an unhealthy interest in him. Before he could cross into Amestris and lodge in a suitable place, he suddenly lost consciousness in the middle of the desert._

_When he came to, he was surprised to meet Heinkel, the lion chimera who had helped him during Baschool and also during the Promised Day. After regaining his strength, he went to West City and met with Brigadier General Rei Alstenheim and requested her help._

_On the other hand, Roy Mustang was knee-deep in confusion regarding the strange tectonic activities and their apparent connection to Creta. Though he had sent Dr. Marcoh and Scar to investigate, the duo were apparently missing in action._

_The new emperor of Xing, Ling Yao was bothered about Ed and the disparity he felt in the latter's chi after the defeat of Father. Though he sneaked into Milos to confront Ed about it, he was slightly surprised to realise that the blond genius too was in the dark as to its reason. Not to mention the fact that internal strife between the Yao clan and the bloodthirsty Fa clan was keeping him and his security detail on its toes._

_In the present day, Ed suddenly passed out in the Central Library. A panicked Al carried the older Elric to the hospital only to find the doctors baffled by his condition. In order to retrace Ed's steps, now Brigadier General Roy Mustang ordered Lieutenant Havoc to accompany Al to the Western Command so that they could try and ascertain as to what was wrong with the Fullmetal Alchemist._

_*/*/_

**WESTERN COMMAND**

**WEST CITY, AMESTRIS**

Al stood in front of the well-polished door, his hand poised to knock.

He couldn't help but gulp. If the Major General was as scary as Lieutenant Breda made her out to be, then he just hoped his mouth wouldn't freeze shut.

Havoc stood behind, his cigarette surprisingly absent. Al raised an eyebrow. Havoc shrugged.

"Not everyone's as lenient as the boss," he replied.

Al knocked.

A sharp yet distant "Come in!" was heard. He took in a deep breath before pushing the door open.

The office was luxurious, not spartan like Major General Armstrong's or Brigadier General Mustang's. Clearly, she liked luxury.

The person in question sat at her desk, her chin perched on her entwined long fingers as a pair of brilliant amber eyes rested on him, her lips curved up in a smirk.

"Alphonse Elric, I presume. And Lieutenant Jean Havoc, is it? The introduction letter speaks highly of you two but funnily fails to enlighten the reason for your visit. Care to elaborate?"

Al gave an uncomfortable chuckle—Mustang had informed him beforehand.

_Fullmetal's condition cannot be made public, for obvious reasons. It is best you tell her in person._

Al cleared his throat before answering.

"We need your help, General," he began.

*/*/

Rei had another feeling of deja-vu rush over her. What was it with the Elric brothers? She couldn't help but recall the fateful day which started this particular chain of events.

" _Homunculus? Me?" Ed exclaimed, clearly flabbergasted._

_Rei felt a wave of relief wash over her._

" _Oh nothing. Blame it on my distraught nerves—this world is a crazy place. But enough of that...why the secrecy?"_

_Ed looked a little sheepish, twisting his brown travelling cloak with his fingers._

" _I need an alchemist who can help me research something," he began cautiously._

_Rei quirked up an eyebrow._

" _Research?" she inquired._

" _Well...er...not exactly the routine, work-related ones...it's more of a personal nature..."_

" _Edward Elric, you are babbling. Come straight to the point—why should I not inform your CO? And what is it that you want to research on?"_

_Ed looked at the door longingly, as if contemplating a way to escape. Rei sighed—this man had serious trust issues._

" _Stop beating around the bush, Edward," she said, not unkindly._

" _I am on the verge of death, General. And I need your help."_

Rei shook her head, bringing herself back to the present.

"Why don't you two have a seat? Looks like we are in for a long discussion," she said amicably, gesturing them to occupy the chairs opposite her across the desk.

"My brother, Fullmetal Alchemist Edward Elric, he came here some three years ago, did he not?" Al blurted out.

Rei was impressed—this particular Elric refrained from beating about the bush.

_Remember General, not a word to the Colonel or to my brother._

Staying true to promises was a serious pain in the neck.

"I should think so. Why do you ask?" she countered in a carefully controlled voice.

Al bit his lip.

"Because, Major General, my brother is suffering from some sort of disease and has been unconscious for almost a week now."

*/*/

**MILITARY HOSPITAL**

**CENTRAL COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

Roy Mustang thought he dreamt it. He rubbed his eyes, daring the fates to play the trick again.

Only it was no trick.

Edward Elric's finger really  _twitched_.

Roy scrambled up to his feet, taking care not to disturb a sleeping Winry on the couch. He silently rushed out of the room and quickly hailed a passing nurse.

"Get the doctor...Edward moved his finger!" he said breathlessly. The nurse nodded in understanding and sped away.

Riza was apparently dozing but Roy's hushed yet excited voice made her go wide awake.

"What is it, sir?" she asked.

"Edw...Fullmetal regained his consciousness," Roy answered, entering the room again.

Riza smiled at his slip-up but refrained from commenting on it as she followed him inside.

A pair of blazing amber eyes lit up in recognition as his lips curved up in a slightly tired smirk.

"Hello there, bastard. Nice to see you," Ed rasped.

Winry stirred awake, rubbing her eyes with her knuckles.

"What the..." she began as she took in the shocked stances of the two soldiers in front of her. Then she turned towards the bed. And saw the eyes she fell in love with look back at her.

"Hey there Winry...see, I didn't bust up my automail this time," Ed said weakly, attempting to sit up.

Just then, the doctor came bustling in, followed by a couple of serious-looking nurses.

"I would request you to step out of the room for a few minutes...I need to check Major Elric's vitals," he said in a business-like manner while the nurses shooed them out.

Roy, for the first time, felt happy to hear Ed curse him again.

Riza quickly walked down to the lobby, muttering something about calling up people. Winry sat on one of the steel chairs in a happy sort of daze while Roy began his relentless pacing. He swore the clocks had gone slower.

After what seemed like an eternity, the doctor emerged from the room with a pleased expression.

"No need to worry, General. Apparently Major Elric has almost recovered—his vitals seem to be normal and a couple of days of food and rest should make him get back to his feet."

A feeling of overwhelming relief relaxed the tension off his shoulders, making him fall on a chair next to Winry.

"Miss Rockbell, I believe you are Major Elric's automail mechanic? I think he is fit enough to undergo an inspection should you want to do so," the doctor added with a smile, making Winry jump up to her feet.

"Is he, doctor? Then I will go and get the supplies from the baggage room," she said delightedly, rushing down the corridor towards the stairs, a wide smile removing all traces of exhaustion from her face.

As soon as she was out of earshot, the doctor grew serious.

"There is this thing, General Mustang," he began in a quiet voice. Roy, who had earlier watched Winry and his exchange with slight bemusement now frowned at the change of tone.

"What's with the change of tone, doctor? Are you hiding something?" he asked, eyes narrowing.

The doctor looked around uncertainly before answering. "I do not know for certain—Major Elric's condition could hardly be called normal, though the vitals and the tests disagree with me at the moment. You do remember my initial diagnosis—and I am sticking with it. If you could, can you track down the doctor who treated his mother? I need to see for certain whether the symptoms match."

Roy ran his fingers through his hair as he contemplated the doctor's words.

"I see what you mean, doc. I too am of the same opinion. I have put one of my men on the job—let's see if I can track him down," he said finally.

"And one another thing...now that the Major is conscious, can you ensure he...er...you know... _behaves_? The nurses still remember his  _actions_  in the past and are frankly terrified," the doctor added, an eye twitching.

Roy chuckled. "I know, doc. Believe me, I know. I will try though I dare say I can promise...Fullmetal is not known for loving hospitals, you know."

Roy got up and offered his hand to the doctor. "Thank you, doctor..."

The doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand firmly. "Rainsworth. Philip Rainsworth."

"Thank you, Dr. Rainsworth. You have been a great help," Roy said gratefully.

"I just did my job, General."

*/*/

**ALSTENHEIM'S CABIN**

**WESTERN COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

Rei knew about Ed's sickness—she had got it from the horse's mouth after all. But true to her promise, she feigned ignorance which prompted Al to encapsulate and present what he knew.

_The promise, is it worth the trouble?_ Rei wondered.

"Major General, we were wondering if you could possibly provide us with Ed's itinerary," Al finished, his eyes bearing hopeful look.

Rei carefully schooled her face to maintain the politely interested look while her brain was whirring in high speed.  _Should she, or shouldn't she_?

"Mr. Elric, you do realise that State Alchemist Research is a highly confidential subject which cannot be disclosed without the express permission granted by the concerned person himself," she said, cringing inwardly as his face fell with disappointment.

"That said, I could always allow access to the publicly available information—like Fullmetal's check-in logs at the Command Centre. I believe you are acquainted with Sheska? You will find those details with her. Tell her I have sent you."

Hope returned to his eyes at this prospect.

"Thank you, Major General. That would help us a lot," he grinned and bidding goodbye, he quickly exited the room.

Rei sighed, resting her head in her palms. She felt bad lying to Ed's brother, but she knew she had no choice.

She finally realised why the true nature of the Promised Day was kept under wraps—some information was best kept secret.

The book shelf next to the window slid forward, exposing a hidden door which opened to reveal a familiar brown-haired man in a t-shirt, shorts and flip-flops.

"That was the only way, General," said Travis softly, pouring himself some whiskey from the cabinet. "You want some?" he added, shaking the bottle in her line of vision.

Rei shook her head. "I don't know, Travis. But Al's family...he has the right to know."

Travis sat on the couch, gulping down the drink and placing the glass on the table. "There's Creta, there's the stupid tectonic thing along with the border issues with Milos. And I am betting a lifetime of lunches that the tectonic thing ties up with Father which ties up with Ed. And that stupid investigation you and Mustang did is nothing but a kindergarten kid trying to act like a researcher. No doubt it gave you a lofty title but it didn't answer any questions. We know there's someone in the brass who's pulling the strings but we don't know who. So best, we keep our mouths shut until something positive turns up."

Rei believed him—she was the one who came with this plan of action after all. But that didn't mean she had to like it.

*/*/

**MILITARY HOSPITAL**

**CENTRAL COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

Ed lay on his bed, flexing his fingers to remove the kinks. Mustang had gone back to office, citing something came up while Winry had gone out with Major Hawkeye for lunch. The ceiling looked newly whitewashed and if he concentrated, he could smell the tell-tale odour of paint.

He wondered if Rei kept her promise.

_I held up my end of the deal, General. I hope you hold yours._

When he listened to Travis' s and Rei's joint narration of the entire chain of events, he couldn't help but feel suddenly light-headed.

" _If I am still alive and kicking, I am fairly sure Father had a plan B should the entire "turn Amestris into a giant graveyard" plan fail"_  Travis had said the first time he met the man.

And he couldn't agree more.

That time, he had Hohenheim, Greed and Ling to help him. But if something of the same scale occurs, then what would he do?

Talking about Ling...

That squinty-eyed eternally hungry sorry excuse of a king was supposed to visit Amestris in a couple of weeks. He had to get hold of him then.

He sighed and turned, wincing slightly. It pained him to keep secrets from the people he trusted most—even that bastard of a General not that he would say it out loud. That particular fact was safer in his cranial confines.

But the existence of Travis couldn't be made public—especially not now. Not when he is finally beginning to piece everything together.

He just hoped Ling managed to get his alkahestry research team gather information on the subject he had asked.

**THE FA ROYAL MANSION**

**SHANDUNG, XING**

"I want the Emperor eliminated before the International Trade Convention that will take place in Amestris next week," said Ying Fa in a cold, quiet voice.

A complexion as fair as snow with straight ebony-black waistlength hair held with an emerald-studded ivory comb, large, shrewd emerald eyes and a hawk-like visage, Ying Fa was merely twenty-two yet had claimed the clan's leadership. Clad in a black silk  _hanfu_ with pink cherry blossoms embroidered on it and pale pink belt outlining her tiny, shapely waist, she was not as fragile as she looked. Five years ago, she had set out to Drachma to find something that would secure her position as the ruler of the country. But that Yao brat got hold of a Philosopher's Stone, a substance she couldn't possibly fight against.

And that Chang girl! A lowly clan being granted such a high pedestal!

Her blood boiled whenever she thought of that pesky alkahestrist, simpering away in the company of that foreign man. Not that he was a looker all right—lean and muscular at all the right places but he was a _commoner_  to boot. Maybe a one night stand, perhaps.

She licked her lips—now  _that_ could be arranged...wasn't he slated to return this winter? She was sure he couldn't withstand her charms, he would succumb to her. And after he was used, she could always throw him away.

Ling and Chang, a clear, clean blow.

"Anything more, my lady?" the man murmured. Ying looked at him, dismissing with a wave of her hand.

The last three years hadn't proved to be very fruitful, but now, she knew exactly what to do.

That pesky bodyguard of his had to go first. And if the rumours were true, it would destroy him more than his own demise.

She rubbed her hands in glee... _wait a little more. This country will soon see a new ruler._

**THE ROYAL PALACE**

**SHIN-KA, XING**

It was almost dinner-time, not that Ling had specific time slots allotted to eating. According to him, food can be shoved into the stomach throughout the day. But at the moment, food was perhaps in the furthest corner of his mind.

He marched purposefully down the marble-floored corridors, nodding to the guards who bowed to him. After a crossing a series of corridors and climbing a couple of flights of staircases, he arrived at his destination.

His Alkahestry Research Institute's special research lab which he had commissioned in the palace. A selected team of alkahestrists were busy poring over thick journals and drawing circles, flashes of light bathing the room with various colours. He sought out the man he wanted to talk to and on finding him, made a bee-line for him.

The man in question looked somewhere to be in his mid-thirties, tall and trim with dark hair and rectangular spectacles framing his intelligent coffee-brown eyes. On seeing the emperor, he excused himself from the discussion he was having with a colleague and quickly walked up to him. Unlike the other researchers who were clad in cream cloaks with gold trim thrown over a golden tunic and pale yellow slacks—the standard uniform of the Institute—he was wearing a cream t-shirt and brown trousers. He bowed low to Ling, smiling when the latter made an impatient noise in his throat.

"You know I hate it when friends bow to me like that, Dr. Chang," Ling said.

"And friends do not call me Dr. Chang. You know I prefer being called Aruo," he smiled, inviting Ling to his office.

"I will call you Aruo when you stop that kow-towing of yours and call me Ling. Lan Fan's bad enough...why don't you learn from your niece? May loves banging my head about whenever she drops in at the palace. That little terror!" Ling shuddered at the last sentenced, vividly remembering the vase she had thrown at him when he had just vaguely  _hinted_ at her developing crush on Al.

"All right...Ling," Aruo said, closing the door and locking it.

"So, Aruo...how's the research going on? I don't know anything about alkahestry apart from the Dragon's Pulse so all the philosophy and stuff will go over my head—but whatever Ed said, is it done?" he asked.

Aruo scratched the light stubble on his chin. On closer look, Ling realised he was exhausted—dark shadows encircled his eyes and the five-o-clock shadow looked more of a permanent fixture.

"Mr. Elric is correct in his assumption—alchemy and alkahestry have more common origins than we have thought possible. Though the way of usage differs greatly... _chi_  moulds our alkahestry practices while tectonic activities mould alchemy. Amestris, as I have been told, had been initially created to be a source of energy to power a giant transmutation circle. So it is safe to say that in a nutshell, the entire country is a lab specimen. Meaning, before the events of the Promised Day, the entire country inhabited a controlled environment. With the one controlling it removed, it is safe to assume that Amestris is suffering a backlash." Aruo grinned at Ling's slightly parted mouth.

"You are not getting it, are you?" he asked.

"Well, bits and pieces. I understood your backlash theory, though," Ling said quickly.

"Just say that it's nature way of saying that "gods or not, you don't mess with me". Think of it as a temper tantrum. Just that the one throwing the tantrum is the nature itself." Aruo said.

"And what about Ed? His illness?" Ling asked.

"Mr. Elric's illness?" Aruo repeated, puzzled. "Has he not intimated you? He finally cracked it, Ling. And he is aware of what needs to be done."


	14. Interlude: A Very "Beary" Initiation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An interlude to keep up the tempo, and some Briggs-action!

**6 MONTHS AFTER THE PROMISED DAY, 4 YEARS 6 MONTHS BEFORE THE PRESENT DAY**

**BRIGGS FORTRESS**

**AMESTRIS-DRACHMA BORDER, AMESTRIS**

A thin man with gangly limbs and a shock of shaggy black hair saluted the Major General sharply, quailing slightly under the steely gaze of the famed Olivier Mira Armstrong.

"Who are you, toothpick?" she barked.

"Lieutenant Andrew Keynes, sir!" he answered in the sharpest military manner he could muster. Armstrong nodded in approval.

"Your demeanour is good. Pile up some muscle on those sticks you call bones—North isn't a picnic," she remarked before marching out of the mess.

Keynes relaxed his posture once the General left the premises, trying to coax his heart to beat a more normal rhythm. He looked around, only to find identical grins of approval on his fellow soldiers' faces.

"You did good, kid," said one of them, a burly stock man with a bald head and a broken nose. "You pleased the queen, hence you are welcome to the fold."

The man's "pat" felt more dangerous than a punch, almost resulting into Keynes planting his face onto the table. He grinned weakly, though mentally he was dancing with satisfaction. Getting accepted into the "fold" as the man termed it was supposed to be hardest in Briggs—now as that was over and done with, he could concentrate on work.

"So Lieutenant Keynes, what did you do to piss off the brass?" the soldier sitting across him asked. He looked around to be in his mid-thirties with a mop of well-tended jet black hair and pair of curious onyx eyes.

"Um...nothing? Why?" Keynes answered after swallowing a rather a large piece of bread.

"That's how people get posted here. As the General said, Briggs is no picnic. And this fortress is certainly no dream destination for any soldier, especially not for Central people like you—most postings are "punishment" postings...hence the question."

Keynes pondered thoughtfully at the soldier's theory as he spooned in the soup. After the Promised Day fiasco some six months ago, he was curious to see Briggs up, close and personal. After all, it wasn't everyday an entire battalion rammed the bastion of Central Command.

"Not really," he finally replied as he fished the last piece of chicken and popped it in his mouth. "I was with the Strategy and Analytics Division initially—posted in Pendleton for the first two months before getting my transfer orders. Truth be told, there aren't enough people in that department to piss off—it was already obsolete and was on the verge of pulling down its shutters. The few people who worked in there were reassigned—some got Central, a couple got East, one went South and I came here."

More soldiers had gathered around him, curious to learn about their new comrade.

"What about West? No one went there?" one soldier piped up.

"West? I believe no," Keynes replied, scratching his chin. He very well remembered the guy who was assigned to the West—he literally _begged_ his CO to get him South. Was West that bad?

"West's not _bad_ , per se," one of them replied as Keynes narrated the incident. "The commander is supposed to be a scary one—someone who can give our Ice Queen a tough competition."

Keynes raised his eyebrows. Scarier than Major General Armstrong? Now that's news.

"And to add on that, she is a State Alchemist...and was one of the many deployed during the Ishbal rebellion. Brigadier General Rei Alstenheim, the Dancing Alchemist," the soldier shuddered as he added.

"Someone more dangerous than Colonel Roy Mustang?" asked another. He had white hair, a calm demeanour and wasn't burly like the rest.

"I am Lieutenant Vato Falman. I got transferred here from Central sometime last year," he said, offering his hand. Keynes shook it.

"Yep, I wager she can mop the floor with your old CO," said another soldier. "I was in Western Command before Briggs and let me tell you, a mix of alchemy and Ice Queen-worthy rage is a potent, scary mix."

Falman gulped a little.

Keynes realised that the discussion was becoming more macabre than he had originally planned.

"Hey um guys? Can anyone show me around the fortress? I don't wanna get lost in here," he suggested.

"Of course, why don't you come with me?" Falman offered.

Keynes nodded in reply.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Falman."

*/*/

The fortress was _huge_. Like ginormous, humongous, giant-size _huge_. Keynes gaped around with unfiltered awe as Falman showed him—research lab, dorms, command rooms, surveillance and communication departments, ammunition godowns...

"You have freaking _tanks_ in here?!" he gasped loudly. Falman grinned.

"Yep. This tank was used to fight with the homunculus that tunnelled right in through the basement. You should have seen the Major General fight it. A sight worthy of witnessing. She even scared the Elric brothers to behave." Falman said, nostalgia creeping into his voice.

"The Elric brothers? You mean Edward Elric? The Fullmetal Alchemist?" Keynes asked excitedly.

"The very same. Which reminds me, its been a long time I have seen those two," he said reminiscently.

"You knew them? Like personally?" Keynes looked as if he would explode with excitement.

"Yeah...after all, we used to have the same Commanding Officer. The last time I heard, they went back home to Resembool—I kind of miss them." said Falman, remembering the times when Edward and Mustang's verbal battles almost shook the very foundations of the Eastern Headquarters.

Keynes was a big fan of the Fullmetal Alchemist and this particular fact was one of the reasons he chose to enroll in the State Military Academy. And after the Promised Day, the following had changed into unwavering awe and devotion.

"You are not the only one," Falman agreed as he showed him his dorm.

After a brief conversation over nothing consequential, Falman left. Keynes looked around the tiny room. It was a double occupancy room but currently he was the sole inhabitant. He was yet to get a room-mate.

After a hot shower, he pulled on a cleaner set of military blues and wrapped the North-issue fur-lined coat for warmth. The jackets which were part of the Strategy and Analytics Division seemed to be as thin as bedsheets in the Briggs snowstorm.

It was late afternoon when he ventured to walk on the outer corridors. The snowstorm which had picked up in the morning was showing no signs of dying down, making the mountains as dark as night. He saw the housekeeping staff lighting the lanterns as well as break the icicles while a couple of electricians seemed to be fixing a set of wires.

A dark-skinned man with glasses stood underneath the ladder as he watched them work.

Keynes plodded up to him, wrapping the coat more tightly around him. Sensing movement, the man turned to him.

"Lieutenant Andrew Keynes, I presume?" he asked, shouting to make himself heard over the storm.

Keynes saluted in reply—he doubted whether his voice could tide over the roar.

"I am Major Miles. Major General Armstrong told me you would be joining today."

Miles motioned to Keynes to follow him and the two men huddled themselves against the freezing wind and walked quickly to cross the corridor, giving an involuntary sigh as they entered the warmer confines of the interior.

"So, what were doing out in the snowstorm?" Miles asked, brushing away the icicles from the fur linings of his coat.

"I was getting a feel of the environment here, sir. I see the housekeeping staff is continuing to work amidst such a storm?" Keynes asked, curiosity evident in his voice.

Miles chuckled. "Briggs is famous for snowstorms like these...they are as common as the sun in Central. So we are pretty much used to it. And as for the housekeeping staff, breaking icicles is the most important part of their job—they need to periodically do it so that the snow doesn't pile up into ice. These icicles if allowed to form would be sharp and strong enough to impale a man. Trust me, I have seen my share of people dying in such a manner."

Keynes gulped. Yup, Briggs was no child's play.

Before he could ask anything, a loud siren rang through the fortress.

" _Attention all soldiers! Code blue! Squad fourteen deploy to observation deck NW-56. Attention all soldiers..."_

Miles groaned at the announcement.

"Perfect! Just what we wanted now," he grumbled, striding purposefully down the stairs. Keynes, feeling lost at sea, decided to follow him.

"If you do not mind me asking, what _is_ code blue sir?" he asked, keeping up with the Major's purposeful strides.

"Apparently a bear has attacked one of the outposts—NW-56 is the most isolated of the seventy-five outposts under the Briggs command. And Squad fourteen is under my command at the moment—guess I have to grin and bear it." Miles though looked far away from grinning at the moment.

"Sir, can I come too?" Keynes asked hopefully.

Miles turned around, incredulity etched in every inch of his tanned face.

"Are you sure you know what you are asking, Lieutenant?" he asked.

Keynes nodded.

Miles shrugged. "Much as we like extra hands, I don't want your blood on mine. Just don't complain I didn't warn you."

*/*/

_Oh shucks! I was better off at the fortress!_

Keynes realised why Miles grumbled at the announcement. Snowstorms were crazy on plain land—on the mountains, they were freaking _nightmares_. He couldn't even see beyond a couple of feet. He realised wryly that if a bear decided to jump him, he was pretty much defenceless.

"Come on, men! If a civilian housewife can tough it up in the mountains, you can too!" Miles voice crackled tinnily in the walkie-talkie.

 _Housewife? What is he talking about?_ Keynes wondered briefly.

After three hours of battling through the storm, they finally made it to the post. It was supposedly a wooden shack which now currently resembled a pile of broken logs. The bear certainly did a number on the outpost.

"Survey the area...fifteen feet radius. Keep your radios on at all times," Miles barked into the walkie-talkie.

Keynes walked to the portion which was supposed to be a door.

"A bear can do this?" he asked, slightly awed.

"Yeah...much worse too, if it feels like it," Miles said gravely as he bent down to inspect the ground.

"The snow obliterated all instances of clues...we just have instincts to reply upon for now," Miles muttered.

Keynes looked around—the white swirling puffs had slowed down a little, the visibility increasing somewhat. He could see some of the men standing on the perimeter of the outpost, rifles cocked and ready.

"We found the men, sir," a voice crackled on the radio. "Sams looks injured and currently unconscious but seems otherwise fine. Langdon's conscious but currently in shock."

Miles gave a sigh of relief. "All right men, pull out. Head for base."

Keynes gave a sigh of relief as the squad began their walk back to base. At least no one died.

His relief was short-lived.

"AAHHH!"

The blood-curdling scream for life halted everyone's tracks. Keynes turned around.

What he saw carved in him a healthy respect for the animal.

A bear had caught one of the Warrant Officers in the rear in his paws, its murderous eyes clearly seeing dinner in the terrified man.

"Oh _shit!_ " Miles cursed. "Johnson, Salueh, Kettleman, Parsons! Take the injured and head back to base! Others stay with me!"

"Sir!"

Keynes was rooted to the spot...he closest encounter he had with a bear was the stuffed toy he bought for his niece. And this one was light years away from that cuddly soft toy.

"Keynes! Ready your rifle!" Miles yelled as he undid the safety catch on his own and took aim.

Keynes gripped the smooth wooden casing of the stock, his fingers scabbling over the catch. He knew Briggs was not a picnic, but he never realised how terrifying it could be.

"Keynes!" Miles yelled, aiming and pressing the trigger. The shot sounded in tune with the storm but the bear was clever. It ducked on all fours, releasing its prisoner. The man scrambled away to safety.

Keynes finally undid the catch and took aim. Unsurprisingly, he missed.

The bear jumped. Unsurprisingly, he didn't miss.

Keynes often heard the term "bear hug". Now, he was having a first-hand experience of the same.

He struggled in its embrace, kicking and punching for all his worth. But to the bear, they were as painful as an ant hitting a human.

"Don't shoot! You will hit Keynes!" Miles shouted. The men stood ready to aim when commanded.

Keynes realised he was on his own now. The rifle was a couple of inches away from his fingers.

_Just a bit further..._

He tried to bring his fingers closer to his rifle.

_Come on fingers..._

The bear roared, it's teeth looking as shiny and sharp as the butcher's knives.

That giant head rushed to meet his own. Keynes fingers found the gun.

"MEN! FIRE!" Miles yelled.

Keynes hit the bear's maw with the butt of his rifle and scrambled away from its reach as the other soldiers fired.

The bear roared again, this time an undercurrent of pain mixed in.

He climbed up onto his knee and took aim. His hands had stopped shaking.

He pressed the trigger.

He hit its flank, the shots from other soldiers following. After a disgruntled roar, the bear lumbered away.

Keynes grip slackened, the rifle falling from his hands as it fell on the snow. He belatedly realised that the storm had reduced to a windy breeze.

A firm hand on his shoulder made him jump.

"You did good, kid," Miles said, smiling. "Let's head back to base."

*/*/

None of the members of Squad fourteen were injured. Keynes had a few scrapes but it was mostly the shock that was making him tremble. The doctor, a bespectacled woman with a shock of red-brown hair, handed him a mug of coffee.

Keynes readily sipped it. Though the taste left a lot to be desired, he was glad to get something warm into his system.

"First day and you get into a bear fight. Lucky you survived," she remarked as she checked the drips on the injured. "You need another blanket? You look pale."

Keynes shook his head.

"So, Lieutenant, I guess you passed your initiation," she grinned as she plopped herself on the table opposite the couch he sat on.

"Initiation?" he asked.

"Yup. It's an unwritten rule in here...you wrestle a bear, you get the "true Briggs men" stamp. But at the end of the day, its only our Ice Queen who managed to hold it out on her own against one of those grizzlies," she said shrugging.

Keynes took another sip of the coffee, his respect for the Major General increasing manifold.

"So everyone here has fought a bear sometime or the other?" he asked.

The doctor nodded. "Yeah...except me, that is. And of course, Lieutenant Falman. That man is terrified of them."

"But doesn't he go on field duties?" he questioned.

"He does...but he prefers the interior work. He's more of a desk man." She jumped on to her feet.

"I gotta go and check with the Major General now, she told me to report her the status of my patients. You done with the coffee?" she asked, her hand out for the mug.

Keynes downed the last bit and handed her the empty mug.

"Thank you Lieutenant. That will be a hundred cenz," she smirked.

Keynes stared at her.

"This coffee cost a _hundred cenz_?!"


	15. Rain

**PRESENT DAY**

**MUSTANG'S CABIN**

**CENTRAL COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

"Thanks a lot, Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong. I owe you one," Roy said before replacing the receiver of the phone. He leant back on his chair, resting his neck on the ergonomically curved pillow Riza had gifted him last Christmas.

Louis Armstrong might be too emotional at times but when duty called, he was one of the most loyal hands Roy had. And not to mention the fact that Armstrong had something of a soft spot for the boys—now men—unlike his other sibling.

Roy stared at the ceiling, consolidating his thoughts. Now that the doctor who had treated Trisha Elric has been found, he realised that maybe...maybe, he might get some answers. Not being in control of the situation was his worst nightmare and he would be glad to wake up from the present one.

A soft knock on the door broke him out of his reverie.

"Enter!" he called. The door slid open to admit the comforting form of his trusted Major.

"Hello Major, any updates?" he asked.

Riza saluted swiftly before answering. "Not much, though I can very well say that Edward is well enough to throw one of his famed tantrums. Dr. Rainsworth is quite frazzled at the moment."

A tired smirk graced his lips as the scene floated in front of his eyes. Alas, the only one able to control him was currently at West City.

Speaking of control...

"I think we should let Miss Rockbell pay him a visit. I am sure he would like it," he grinned, his old devilish gleam back into his eyes. Riza couldn't help but smile at his expression.

"What?" Roy asked, a little bewildered.

Riza shook her head. "It's nothing, sir."

Roy composed himself slightly and placed his palms on the desk. "Any more papers to sign, Major? Or am I done for the day? I could kill for some fresh coffee right now," he mused.

"The paperwork, I am surprised to say, is done and complete sir. I should think you can take it easy this week," Riza said, sparing a glance into her file. Roy looked as if Christmas had come a month early.

"Major! You are the greatest! If I could, I would have kissed you right now!"

Roy suddenly stopped as he realised what he said. Riza looked pale, her russet eyes clouding.

"Er...uh..." Roy tried to think of something but nothing came to his mind.

_Shit. Shit. Shit!_

"I should be leaving, General," she said softly, turning away from him and walking towards the door.

_Move your legs, dumbass! If she leaves now, she leaves forever!_

Roy bounded forth, catching her wrist as it sat on the knob on the verge of unlocking it.

"Riza..." he murmured, drawing her hand away from the door and cradling it in his own.

"General...this is inappropriate," Riza said quickly, looking anywhere else but him.

"Riza... _look at me_!" Roy said, turning her head to force her look into his eyes. Unshed tears swam among the russet orbs, the eyes he had loved since the day he first saw her.

"Please...sir..." Riza whispered.

"Drop the sir for once, Riza. Look into my eyes and tell me the truth," he pleaded. His eyes caught the pale scar on her neck, the place that gold-toothed doctor had slit with a knife. He remembered the rage he had felt along with the helplessness—if that Xingese girl hadn't come there, she would have...

He shook his head, trying to blot out that particular nightmare. Riza was here...Riza was _safe_...

He saw the love in her eyes, the unwavering faith she had on him.

"Screw the anti-fraternisation law," he muttered angrily. Riza gave a small smile at the boyish pout on his face.

"You could be courtmartialed if found in such a compromising position with a subordinate, sir," she said softly.

"I don't care...that day...that blasted Promised Day...I realised what things I hold dear. Sure, I want to make this country a better place—but not at the cost of the people I love. I have lost enough people...I don't want to lose any more..." Roy said, drinking in the sight of her face.

"All the more reason to step back, sir," she replied. "I won't be the weakness your enemies can use against you. I am the one tasked with protecting your back as you move on forward, not vice-versa. This country needs people like you...Roy...don't disappoint them."

"I love you, Riza," he said simply, taking half a step back.

Riza smiled, the hardness of her face softening. Her eyes shone with acceptance and emotion as she looked ahead.

"I have always loved you, Roy," she whispered. "But I..."

"Shush..." he said, quietening her with a finger on her lips. "I don't need a social function to declare my feelings, Riza...All I want is you to be by my side...let me protect your back too."

Riza realised that Roy had a lot more in common with a certain blond State Alchemist than he would like to admit—he was stubborn to boot.

"All right, if that is how you want it," she said, finally relenting.

Roy enveloped her with his arms, drinking in her scent as she let out a tiny surprised exclamation at the act.

"I don't know why Riza," he said, muffled slightly by her hair. "But I am scared...I feel something bad is going to happen..."

Riza circled her arms around his torso, feeling the warmth and security only he could give. "Don't worry, it will be all right."

"Stay with me tonight Riza...please..."

Riza hesitated before answering. "What would you like for dinner? Because I am cooking."

*/*/

**CRIMSON HOTEL**

**WEST CITY, AMESTRIS**

Sheska could be hare-brained at times, but she sure knew her job; Al realised that as he read through the files.

 _Brother certainly did a lot of travelling,_ he mused. Since the Western Command issued all the travel permits to the western countries, the logs pretty much covered Ed's entire trail over the past two years.

 _What were you researching, Brother_?

Havoc was already asleep, mumbling away about a certain Brigadier General trying to steal his new girlfriend. He grinned at the spectacle before deciding to move his reading to the tiny reading room on the first floor.

The room was empty at present, save for a brown-haired man clad in a singlet and shorts reading a newspaper. Al took an armchair by the window and settled down to peruse the rest of the files. After some time, he felt a pat on his shoulder.

"Mind if I join you?"

It was the brown-haired man. Al nodded.

"I don't mind."

The man occupied the armchair opposite him and placed two mugs of coffee on the table between them.

"I took the liberty of ordering some coffee for you...I hope you are a coffee person," he said.

"Oh, you shouldn't have bothered! But thanks all the same, I was about to order myself one," Al said, taking a swig from the offered mug.

"How rude of me, I should have introduced myself. I am Travis Baker, I own a garage two streets away," he said, sipping his coffee.

"I am Alphonse Elric. I am an alchemist," Al said, introducing himself.

"I thought I saw you at the Western Command this morning..." Travis trailed away.

Al nodded. "Yeah I was...had some stuff to look into."

"I see," Travis replied, leaning back on his armchair. "I had dropped in to get a couple of documents signed when I saw you. You seemed tensed...pardon me for prying, but is everything all right?"

Al gave a small smile as he stared into his coffee. "Wish I could say that, Travis. It's my brother...he's not well. And he's not telling anything. I suspect Ling knows about it but that guy is being so tight-lipped...I feel so useless, you know. I am not a kid anymore, I am _nineteen_ for God's sake! That might sound young to some but I have seen enough in my lifetime to feel as old as a sixty-year-old at times. Brother always tries to burden himself but sometimes, he doesn't understand how useless it makes the others feel. Even General Mustang, Major Hawkeye...everyone wants to help but he keeps shutting them out..."

"Sounds like a martyr, doesn't he?" said Travis softly.

Al nodded profusely, before slight confusion clouded his eyes.

"Wait...why am I telling you all this..." he murmured, his eyes suddenly becoming heavy.

Before he could say anything anymore, Al was fast asleep.

"Sleep, Alphonse Elric. Rest assured your brother is not alone in this crisis," Travis whispered as he picked up the coffee mugs and left the room.

*/*/

**FA ROYAL MANSION**

**SHANDUNG, XING**

"The group from Creta has arrived, milady."

"Good, send them to my reading room. Get them refreshments...I will be arriving shortly."

Ying Fa inhaled the relaxing aroma of lavender and lemon as she slid lower into the water. A bath after a taxing day of negotiating and threatening the sub-clans does flush out the toxins. After fifteen minutes or so, she reluctantly got out of her temporary bliss breathing in deeply as her attendants rushed to cover her body with towels and begin to scent her hair.

The woman who had informed her of the guests' arrival now stood near the closet, holding a blood-red _cheongsam_ with light pink motifs.

"I thought something impressive to carve an impression on to our guests' minds," she said. Ying looked appreciatively at the dress.

"You thought well. I shall be dressed immediately. The Fa clans adheres to punctuality."

"Of course, milady."

Half-an-hour later, Ying was seated on her ceremonial chair, a tight smile on her youthful face.

"We bring greetings and gifts from our leader, milady," said one of the men. His face looked scraggly and heavily scarred while his body, though stocky and well-built, looked more like a boulder than a physique worthy of admiration. His other three accompaniments were built on similar lines.

"Does your leader agree with my proposition? Can I look forward to his support?" she asked impassively.

The man bowed again before answering. "Our leader is delighted to be of Her Ladyship's assistance. All the preparations proceed as planned...by the end of this month, Amestris would have fallen and Xing would have a new ruler gracing the royal palace in Shin-Ka."

"I am glad to hear that. As per our agreement, you are free to use our resources as you deem fit," she replied.

"Your graciousness knows no bounds, milady. We are grateful for your support," he said, a wicked smile spreading over his scars.

*/*/

**MILITARY HOSPITAL**

**CENTRAL COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

_Dear Al,_

_I am sorry for hopping away like this...I know you will be livid, but trust me when I say this, things have become more complicated than I had originally thought._

_This "so-called" disease that I have, it is no disease for starters. Just another gift from that White Grinning Bastard for Hohenheim. A Philosopher's Stone is created by sacrificing millions of human lives—so it is for certain that the Stone suffers the "appropriate" consequences. Apparently, eternal life wasn't enough...the ones he holds precious will be snatched away from him. So for better or for worse, that idiot sort of loved us—you, mom, me. I think the illness took root in mom the day I was conceived. And it slowly grew in her until it killed her. He thought leaving would protect us from this fate, but just like a ton of other things, he thought wrong._

_Alchemical circuits proved to be a deterrent for this thing, hence we weren't affected. But after the Promised Day, I lost the defence I had against it, and so this "illness" reared its head._

_Don't blame yourself, Al. It is not your fault._

_Major General Rei Alstenheim knows about this. Ask her if you need to question something. She is researching for a cure and I have made her promise that she wouldn't tell you. Give her this letter, she will give you my research material._

_I am going...where, I can't say. But trust me, brother dearest, I will return. I will strangle that bastard with my bare hands if I have to._

_Tell Mustang to prepare for war. Tell him to call Alstenheim and Armstrong up at north. Trouble is brewing in the west and it is in everyone's best interests to be prepared._

_Tell Winry that I will come back to her, no matter what._

_It is not raining yet._

_Yours,_

_Ed_

Winry clutched the letter in her hands, tears streaming down her face.

_Ed, why? Why do you do this to us?_

**CENTRAL STATION**

**AMESTRIS**

"One ticket to Zachbell," a hooded stranger pushed in the money through the narrow opening of the ticket counter.

"Going to Xing, eh?" the man at the counter remarked, handing him the narrow slip of paper.

The stranger went away without answering, a slight flash of gold being the only shred of reply.

**LING'S PERSONAL QUARTERS**

**THE ROYAL PALACE**

**SHIN-KA, XING**

"Oh crap! And you are telling this _now?_ Sheesh, you Yaos are stupid to boot!" May exclaimed angrily.

"How can I tell you unless I know it myself? Besides, isn't Aruo your uncle? You could have asked him if you wanted to know," Ling pouted.

"Just the tiny fact that I _didn't_ know what my beloved uncle was researching in the first place. Which reminds me, does Alphonse know?"

Ling cringed at the question. May clapped her hands to her mouth horror.

"Gosh, Ling! Are you _crazy?_ Al is going to _kill_ you if he finds out!"

Ling sat down on the edge of his bed looking downcast.

"I don't know, May. Ed made me swear not to tell Al anything...but I think he's being a bit too overprotective here. Al's not a kid anymore—he's the closest family to him. I think he has the right to know," he said, looking at his fingers.

May let out a sigh as she sat next to him, a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I understand, Ling. The bond between the Elric brothers is something very few can decipher, but it is something special indeed," she whispered softly.

Ling turned slightly, an odd look on his face.

"Hey May, can you do me a favour?" he asked.

May looked surprised. "A favour?"

Ling nodded. "Yeah...see, I would be visiting Amestris within a couple of weeks. Some stupid convention. But you could go on ahead, drop by Central. That black-haired military man who helped us...what was his name? Yeah, Mustang. Contact him, he's supposed to be Ed's CO. He would know something. You can even meet with Al."

May frowned at the proposition. "But Ling, I cannot just _traipse_ into Central! I would need a reason!"

Ling waved away her reservations. "Ah, don't worry, sister dearest. I will get you a letter which would proclaim that you are visiting under diplomatic protection—like doing a recee of the venue before the emperor visits or something."

May narrowed her eyes but she couldn't agree more. Besides, why forgo an opportunity to meet Alphonse again?

"All right," she relented. "Get me the letter so that I can leave as early as possible."

*/*/

**21B CAMELOT APARTMENTS**

**WEST CITY, AMESTRIS**

"Ling? As in the emperor of Xing?" Rei asked.

Travis nodded. "I guess so."

Rei sipped the orange juice, a frown on her face. Xing? Another country? This might complicate things.

"Those trained in the way of the Dragon Pulse can easily discern the fact that he is ill...his _chi_ basically shouts the fact in a hundred decibel megaphone," Travis said, leaning back on the couch, sighing as he felt the downy warmth of the cushions.

"I remember Alphonse had stayed in Xing to train in alkahestry...why couldn't he identify the...the whatever his brother is suffering from?" she asked, frankly curious.

"Our State Alchemist is quite the prodigy, General. Over the past three years, he has learned a lot about hiding his _chi_. The same technique I use, only better," he replied.

Rei looked at him disbelievingly. She finally understood the trouble poor Roy had on his hands for the past seven-eight years.

"And how come Alphonse talked to you? The last time I checked, you weren't buddies," Rei asked shrewdly.

"I am a Homunculus, General. I told you my speciality is discerning truth from lies and deception. Also, I can induce one to talk if needed. Don't worry, that kid won't remember a thing once he wakes up."

Rei realised that the man sitting across the room could prove to be quite dangerous if the situation called for.

Disapproval must have shown itself on her face as Travis gave her an apologetic look.

"I know what I did wasn't honourable...but it was for the best. Creta is sure to make it's move any day now. And if Ed is correct, we need to resolve the issue at hand before we can get the countermeasures ready," Travis said, standing up.

"You are leaving?" she asked.

"Have some loose ends to tie, General. A Cretan General is an acquaintance of mine...he too thinks that the Cretan brass are taking orders from someone else. He has no concrete proof but according to him, there's supposed to be a top-secret meeting tonight at Table City. So it doesn't require a genius to know that the Amestrian people involved in this idiocy will be present too," he answered, straightening his trademark singlet.

"And you tell this to me _now_?" Rei seethed with anger.

Travis shrugged. "I am an informer...I need the meeting to take place so that I can milk out some information. You need to plan the bigger picture...get the issue resolved. You are the alchemist here, I am not."

Rei couldn't help but feel a little affronted. "You do realise you are ordering around a Major General, aren't you?" she remarked.

"A suggestion, General." Travis smiled.

Rei lifted her hands in defeat. "Okay, we go your way. Go to Table City...keep me informed. And..."

She gave a soft smile. "Stay safe."

Travis rolled his eyes. "I am a _Homunculus_ , for God's sake. You puny humans worry about safety...I am going to kick butt and outlive all of you!"

*/*/

**MUSTANG'S HOUSE**

**CENTRAL, AMESTRIS**

Roy paced his drawing room, hands buried into his armpits. The gloves were in his pocket, though he didn't need them. He could clap and transmute if he wanted to, like the Elric brothers. Like Alphonse Elric.

He could barely control the urge; his system cried out fire.

Riza hadn't come. The phone call, the call in which she said she was leaving for his house, it came four hours ago.

The phone of her apartment rang without answer.

Roy could feel the same fear of desperation and helplessness as he felt in Ishbal.

_Riza...goddamn it! Where are you?_

Just then, the phone rang.

Roy rushed to it, almost falling over his armchair in the process.

"Riza?!" he said breathlessly into the receiver.

" _No sir, it's me Winry."_

Roy rested his forehead on the wall in despair. _Riza, where are you?_

"What is it, Winry? Is Fullmetal giving you trouble?" he asked, wondering why the girl called so late into the night.

" _Mr. Mustang, it's Ed. He's not in the hospital!"_

Roy felt that it was indeed raining cats and dogs tonight.


	16. Interlude II: End of Innocence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback to how Rei Alstenheim and Roy Mustang met

**12 YEARS BEFORE THE PRESENT DAY**

**ISHVAL**

Roy Mustang gripped his arms to stop himself shaking but it was a futile attempt. His obsidian eyes which formerly used to hold a burning fire were now devoid of life. The roughness of his gloves sometimes brushed over the skin exposed through the tears of his uniform, the gloves which burned many unnamed individuals alive.

He shuddered again, trying to block out the screams.

It was not yet sunrise and his tent was dark save a solitary lamp burning dimly a couple of feet away. He could hear Hughes snore away gently—as if he had just flopped into bed after a long, hard, _normal_ day at office, not from some hellish waezone.

But then, Hughes was not an alchemist, he was just a soldier. Not a mass murderer like him. He killed to save himself—it was an act of defence. He stood a fair chance of landing on the other side of the table.

Not like him, whose one snap could reduce life to rubble.

He tossed about again—it was the third straight day he couldn't sleep. The bags underneath his eyes were growing and bigger and darker and if Hughes noticed his sleeplessness, he didn't point it out.

Finally giving up on slumber, he sat up. His jacket and shirt were singed at places where he had lost control of his flames earlier in the day—and he made no effort to change his outfit.

He felt _tainted_.

He stared at his gloved hands.

_One flick and he could burn himself to death. And this nightmare would be over._

No more burning towns...no more killing children...that thought seemed more tempting by the passing second.

Just then, a pair of tired russet eyes and a mop of blonde hair swam into his vision.

 _Yeah,_ his conscience said with heavy sarcasm. _Leave her alone too while you are at it._

He groaned softly.

Life was unfair.

He stepped out of the tent, as Hughes mumbled something on the lines of _I love you, Gracia_.

He couldn't help but crack a smile at that—at least someone was sane in this hellhole.

He walked about the sea of tents. Apart from the night guards patrolling silently, greeting him with a dip of head when they passed by him, all was quiet.

He decided to go to the hillock behind the well—it was the highest place in the vicinity which offered a good view of the sunrise.

As he trekked up and drew nearer to the well, he heard some loud splashing. He grew curious, breaking into a light jog.

" _Got to clean it, got to clean it..."_

He stopped once he reached closer to the well. Someone was reeling in a bucket and then splashing it all over their arms.

He drew closer to the figure.

As the first rays of sunlight broke through the sky and illuminating the vistas, Roy looked shell-shocked.

The figure was a tall, gangly looking girl with long jet-black hair held up in a high pony tail. She did not look much older than fifteen. Her amber eyes were burning feverishly as she tried to wash something away from her hands which looked squeaky clean to him.

"Got to clean it, got to clean it..." she kept on muttering under her breath.

Roy stepped forward cautiously, trying not to startle her.

"Excuse me...but what are you doing?" he asked in a low voice.

She jumped, before looking up to him.

Roy knew that expression quite well...the dangerous mix of despair, anger, self-loathing...

She stood up straight, showing him her hands.

"My hands are dirty. So I am cleaning them," she said clearly.

A voice hollow and devoid of emotion, yet it sounded perfectly normal.

"They are clean enough, don't you think?" Roy pointed out. The tan skin peeking out of the rolled sleeves looked like they have been scrubbed within an inch of their lives.

She shook her head.

"No...they are not..." she whispered softly, looking at the sun all set to rise.

Roy looked at her, worry clear on his face. What were the military higher-ups _thinking_ , sending a child to this hell?

"With which unit are you attached? Who's the alchemist leading your unit?" he asked. Maybe he could have a word or two with her superior and perhaps convince them to let her go home. He couldn't save everyone, but maybe he could save her. And cleanse a minuscule portion of his guilt.

The rebellion was no place for her now.

"Unit 49," she said, turning to face him. "I am the State Alchemist who is leading that unit."

Roy took an unconscious step back.

She gave a hollow laugh at his reaction.

"Surprised you, right? I am the youngest candidate to ever clear the exam. I am Major Rei Alstenheim, the Dancing Alchemist."

He couldn't get over his shock—the military not only sent a child but the child was an alchemist?

"How?" he managed to whisper.

She sat down on a rock, staring at the sun.

"You know the Directive 3066, the one to terminate and purge Ishval. All State Alchemists worth their salt were pulled to the front lines—including me. You are the Flame Alchemist, right? Then I don't need to tell you the rest."

Her eyes hardened as unwanted memories passed in front of her mind's eye.

"Yesterday...it was terrible. Our unit was assigned section 94-A, ordered to eliminate totally. In a way, I envy you. Your style of alchemy doesn't make you come face to face with the ones you kill—they remain nameless and faceless to you. But mine is more...hands-on. I stepped in..."

_Rei frowned as she studied the plan in front of her._

" _You are in charge of this building. Complete elimination, no questions asked," barked her superior, pointing a rectangular block with his forefinger. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak._

_The quartet of soldiers protecting her back didn't look much older than her, and one of them looked close enough to pee in his pants. She shook her head as she moved forward, cursing the war._

_She took out the slips of papers from her pocket. They were inscribed in a variety of transmutation circles. She put them up on the walls as she walked deeper into the building, her ears perked up to catch any unusual disturbance. As she pasted the last slip on the wall, she thought she heard people breathing behind the rickety door a few steps ahead._

_She stepped ahead._

_And opened the door._

_And found at least fifty children of varying ages, looking frightened. And at least twenty-five rifles pointed to her face._

_Her body moved before her brain could instruct it. The last transmutation circle was slapped onto the wall, blue alchemical energy crackling out and breathing life into the other circles through out the building._

_The building cracked before getting consumed in flames._

_Rei could hear the children screaming. She stood at the door, a vacuum barrier protecting her from the flames. The last circle fluttered in her hand._

_The flames cleared a little, allowing her to see clearly the scene in front of her._

_A pile of writhing bodies lay in the room, blood dripping from various cut and burns. She could not differentiate whose limbs belonged to whom, the way they were entangled._

_Three kids stood in front of the pile, rifles held clumsily in their shaking hands. She knew instantly that they had never held a rifle before in their lives._

_The circle beckoned to her._

_The last step of her attack._

_One of them was a girl no older than eleven. She was almost the same size as the rifle she was holding, her red eyes wide and round with fear._

_Rei felt her hands tremble._

_Then she heard the unmistakable click of the safety catch being withdrawn._

_Wildly, she slammed the paper on the floor. Blue energy surged through the floor._

_When she looked up, she saw the kids impaled on spikes that rose up from the floor, their faces forever frozen in that look of terror and despair._

Roy looked away, understanding exactly what she felt.

"I am sorry," he whispered.

She shrugged, a painful smile etched on her tired face.

"Don't be, Flame Alchemist," she said, looking at the horizon. Roy saw tears sliding down her cheeks, knowing that nothing he said could stop them.

* * *

 

A week later when his unit was slated to return, a messenger came running to their camp.

"UNIT 49 IS ON THE VERGE OF BEING WIPED OUT!" he managed to gasp before collapsing on the ground. The medical team quickly took him away for first aid.

"Unit 49? Weren't they in the southern sector? That was supposed to be an easy target," Hughes grumbled, disappointed that they wouldn't be leaving for Central as planned.

Roy frowned as their unit began to march south. Wasn't that kid in that unit?

"What happened Roy? You look tensed," Hughes said, shouldering his bag into a more comfortable position.

"That kid I told you about, remember? Rei Alstenheim? She's in that unit," he muttered.

Hughes looked a bit shocked.

"I hope she's okay," he said slowly. Roy grunted in response.

_Not another child...please not another child!_

The sight that greeted them after two hours was not a reassuring one. The entire town of Gashier, the target of Unit 49, looked like pillars of stone rising on the fields of flame. This looked worse than the times he set things on fire.

His commanding officer barked out orders, ordering the troops to scatter and find any survivors if possible.

"Hey Roy, is she a Flame Alchemist too?" Hughes asked as the two of them rushed towards a burning building.

"No," he grunted. "She is called the Dancing Alchemist."

Hughes looked a bit flabbergasted at the title but chose not to comment on it at the moment.

"Then the fire? Where did it come from?" he asked, trying to make himself heard over the sudden roar of flames that erupted out of a building just inches away from them.

"I don't know exactly," Roy yelled back. "But I think it has got to do something with instantaneous combustion of sulphur in the air."

Hughes tuned out the technical jargon, focussing instead to find a telltale figure of a cornered alchemist.

Suddenly he caught sight of a figure with long black hair... _jumping_ around on the terrace.

"Um Roy...is that..." he began, pointing at the figure currently performing somersaults.

Roy squinted before nodding in agreement.

"Yes, that is her."

The duo sped towards the house, Roy slipping on his ignition glove as Hughes undid the safety catch of his gun. The structure was barely standing and Roy's sharp eyes caught signs of tattered paper floating around along with the dust.

 _So this is Alstenheim's alchemy,_ he mused.

They carefully climbed the stairs, knowing that a single misstep would result in them plummeting to their deaths. Soon, they reached the scene of action.

Alstenheim was standing in the centre, blood dripping from her right shoulder on the initially white floor as she clutched a slip of paper between her index and forefinger. Roy could faintly make out a transmutation circle drawn on it. Five well-built Ishvalans, each equipped with a rifle surrounded her, their weapons pointed at her. They didn't notice the addition to the party.

But Alstenheim did.

Roy noticed her hand in which she had the transmutation circle paper...she deftly switched it with the ease of a magician expert in card tricks.

 _She changed her circle,_ he realised.

Hughes looked at him for instruction, his gun ready to fire.

Roy stared in those amber eyes. She stared back, and lightly shifted her irises to her left. Roy looked to his right—her left—and saw the military taking positions.

He nodded, ready to snap his fingers.

A small smile curved up her lips.

With a loud battle cry, she threw the card on to the rifle of the assailant who stood in front of her, making it explode. In the commotion, Roy snapped his fingers, creating another wave of flames more lethal than the previous ones. He dragged Hughes and jumped down his right—only to get his foot caught by a strong, unyielding grip. Hughes tumbled onto the tarpaulin roof two storeys below, looking up at Roy in dismay.

"JOIN THE TROOPS! I WILL FOLLOW YOU," Roy yelled, hitting the man's fist in an attempt to escape.

"Even if I die today, I won't let you live, Flame Alchemist!" the man roared, immune to the sparks generated by him. As the smoke cleared, Roy saw a savage smirk dancing on his face. In his other hand was a canteen.

Filled to the brim with water.

Roy paled. _Oh God...this can't be happening!_

The man doused Roy's gloves, making them useless. He then pulled him up and threw him across the floor. Roy cursed the fact that he wasn't carrying a gun on his person.

Four men lay on the ground, three looked knocked out and one was writhing in pain; he was the one whose rifle exploded.

"So Flame Alchemist, how does it feel to be on the other side of the equation?" the man began, loading his rifle and pointing it at the centre of Roy's head.

Roy stared back, his obsidian eyes reflecting the residual flames that still danced in corners of the terrace. Alstenheim was no where to be seen.

"If you want to shoot me, then do it," he said through gritted teeth.

"With pleasure, you dog!" he said, licking his lips and was about to pull the trigger...

"Lieutenant Colonel... _DUCK!_ "

He saw a black-blue blur race past him and plant a transmutation circle card right on the Ishvalan's face.

" _Forgive me..."_ she said quietly.

A loud bang, loud enough to almost tear Roy's eardrums, and a shockwave strong enough to throw him off the feet occurred.

As he scrambled up on to a sitting position, he saw the Ishvalan lying on the floor...without a head. Alstenheim sank to her knees, her shoulders shaking violently.

" _Oh God...I murdered him! I am freaking murderer..."_ she said frantically, hugging herself. Roy realised she was rinsed in blood from top-to-toe. He crawled towards her on his knees, and not knwowing what to do, he draped an arm across her shaking shoulders.

"Hey...it was either him or me. You made your choice. But you know it as well as I do, one of us was going to die," said Roy softly, guiding her up on her feet and pushing her gently towards the stairs.

He heard thundering footsteps only to see Hughes followed closely by Dr. Marcoh.

"She doesn't look much injured," Roy said. "But she is currently terrified."

Dr. Marcoh shook his head as he took in the sight.

"What has the world come to, when we send children to kill?" he asked as he walked to the kneeling alchemist...who presently looked just like a child dressing up as soldier in a fancy dress party.

Roy looked at the doctor, unable to answer the question that had been plaguing him since the day he first met her by the well.

* * *

 

The day they reached Central was a bright and sunny one, as if mocking the darkness their hearts carried.

Roy stood on the platform, unsure what to do or where to do. He didn't have a girlfriend like Hughes nor did he have family like the others. As he contemplated his options, he saw another figure as lonely as himself.

It was Alstenheim.

She was out of her military blues and was just clad in a black pullover sweatshirt with blue jeans and combat boots. Her right arm was in a sling and a white bandage went around her forehead, her left hand carrying a medium sized duffel bag.

At first glance, she looked like a girl home from boarding school. But if one looked into her eyes, they would realize that the echoing sadness, despair and frustration that swam in them couldn't be brought about by the worst of homework. The eyes were of someone who had been to hell and stayed alive to tell the tale.

He walked up to her.

"I didn't get to thank you for saving my life," he said, tapping her shoulder to get her attention.

She turned around, her strung up aura infinitesimally relaxing at the sight of him.

"None needed, anyone would have done what I did. I don't leave my comrades behind, Lieutenant Colonel. Nor do I forsake the ones who come to rescue me, even though they end up needing to get saved," she said slowly. A ghost of a smile played on her lips.

Roy relaxed a little at that look—maybe, all was not lost.

"So, where you would be going now?" he asked, slightly curious.

"I have been promoted to Colonel now, and have been transferred to the West City," she said in a slightly smug voice.

"Well, then I guess congratulations are in order, _Colonel_ ," he smirked.

She grinned back.

"Looks like the higher-ups were impressed by me saving your ass, _Lieutenant_ Colonel," she said, a lightness creeping in her voice.

"I am waiting for my connecting train to Pendleton, that's where I live," she added.

Roy nodded understandingly.

"I see. And I think I should go and freshen up. After all, I too have to report to my Commanding Officer in East City within two days," he said, a finality in his tone.

"So I guess we part ways here, Flame Alchemist," she said, smiling slightly.

Roy smiled back. He held out a hand.

"But I am the one who is going to be Fuhrer," he challenged.

She looked up to him, life returning to her eyes as she shook the proffered hand.

"Let's see...it's a race, Lieutenant Colonel," she smirked.

"Oh yes, it is. A race I fully intend to win at all costs."


	17. Pride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since everything's occurring on the "PRESENT" timeline, I won't be mentioning it unless otherwise required.  
> Happy Reading!

_Pride comes before a fall—because more often than not, it_ becomes _the reason for the fall._

_After years of research about the Philosopher's Stone, I learnt a few things about philosophy. About this law of Equivalent Exchange. Turns out that this isn't as simple as give-and-take, like the plain barter system of old days. Equivalent Exchange is much more deeper than that._

_That White Grinning Bastard might be shitty as...well, shit but it does follow logic after all. One commits a sin or a taboo when one is prideful of oneself. I believed in my independence, my strength, my support in the form of my brother._

_That fateful day when we tried human transmutation, it took away my pride._

_The same way it took away Teacher's ability to carry a child and Smartypants' eyesight. Mustang prided on his ability to see several moves ahead. Truth took it away._

_I thought that finally, I cracked the system. That I found out the real Truth hidden behind the other Truths. That I deciphered another meaning of "One is all, all is one"._

_I couldn't have been anymore wrong._

_And this time, I have no idea what price I would have to pay._

*/*/

**MUSTANG'S CABIN**

**CENTRAL COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

It has been thirty hours since Edward Elric was reported to be missing. Thirty-eight hours since he last saw Riza.

Roy badly wanted to set something on fire.

"Brother ran off... _again_?" Al said, part exasperated, part exhausted.

The younger Elric had been on the train when he got the news, and he had been restless the latter part of the journey. Havoc had almost offered him a cigarette to calm him down.

Roy handed him the well-crumpled letter which Al skimmed through, pocketing it to read it later.

"How did it go? You met with Rei?" he asked. Al sighed before settling down on the chair.

"I did, got the travel logs from Sheska. Brother had spent an awful lot of time in Creta, though," Al mused. "What is going on, General?"

Roy scratched his chin at this information, trying to join the hazy points in his mind.

"Wish I knew, Al," he finally replied. "Your brother is leading us in a fine dance."

He looked at the sleeping Winry on the couch before turning his gaze back to the distraught yet determined Al. He then stared at his own gloved hands, finally deciding onto something.

"You don't look like you have slept last night," Roy said gently. "Go get some rest. I have a suite upstairs, take the key and crash there for a couple of hours."

Al yawned unwillingly. "I am worried, sir...Brother disappeared and then Major Hawkeye. I don't like this...don't like this at all."

Roy agreed, his lips pressed into one thin line. "I agree, Al."

Al left, promising to return within a couple of hours. The soft closing of the door stirred the blonde awake.

"Was that Al?" she asked drowsily. Roy nodded.

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stood. "I will go and check on him, Mr. Mustang. Please...if any news come about Ed, do inform us."

Roy nodded.

He couldn't help but fist his hands in despair. One disappeared without a choice, one gallivanted off.

 _Ask Rei._ He harrumphed mentally. He had been trying to establish a communication with that Brigadier—no, _Major_ General since the last two years. That woman had pulled up walls around her, around her entire command. Apart from the official communication, he had absolutely _no_ idea what that whimsical crackpot was up to. The last, closest thing he had to communication was when Havoc and Breda met up during the joint drill a year back. Turns out that chubby Lieutenant was posted to Pendleton and he had next to no idea about the inner workings of the Western Command. Sheska's division was more of an independent department and hence she was in the dark too. Fuery's attempt to hack into their communication systems was effectively thwarted.

What is Rei trying to do?

An involuntary shudder ran down his spine. She was an older, mature version of Edward Elric, identical up to that spitfire, no-nonsense attitude. But she had one point which the older Elric could never develop—the cold-blooded killing nature.

She could aim to kill if the situation called for it.

He just hoped she hadn't done anything drastic.

He hated his life.

Winry was about to open the door when Havoc's face poked in.

A tired, haggard Jean Havoc without his personal cloud of cigarette smoke.

Roy sat up straighter—this was serious. And way more worse than he contemplated.

"Update, sir!" Havoc saluted.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" Roy asked, eyes narrowed. He saw Winry turn attentive.

"We have found what is assumed to be Major Hawkeye's location, sir!" he barked officially. Havoc then lowered his salute, formality giving way to desperation which had been missing even when Central was being bombed.

"General, you are not going to like this."

*/*/

**MUSTANG'S SUITE**

**TEMPORARY RESIDENTIAL QUARTERS**

**CENTRAL COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

It was simple, but luxurious.

Al couldn't stop himself from gaping slightly. The suite was not ostentatious, but comfort oozed out of every pore of its floor area. He placed his duffel bag on the night stand as he threw himself spreadeagled over the bed.

The new super-fast trains were amazing, but the seats were terrible. His butt was still sore. He wondered how Havoc had resumed his military duties the moment they crossed the threshold of Central Command.

_The military surely does not lack energy, huh..._

It was almost noon, and his stomach grumbled in hunger.

 _A bath followed by some breakfast and a bit of sleep_...

He was about to step into the shower when the door knocked.

It was Winry.

"Hey, Winry. You were asleep so I didn't wake you," Al said, standing slightly aside to let the blonde in.

"Naah it's okay. I was awaiting your arrival," she said, a small smile on her face.

The two of them walked over to the sofa and sat side-by-side.

"Hey Winry...you sure you doing okay?" Al asked gently.

Winry nodded, not trusting herself to speak. "You know what, Al? I am tired of being played by your brother like this...he never tells us anything...skipping off like that. It's insulting, at times. It's like he doesn't trust me."

Al sighed; Winry's conclusion was justified. It was just that Ed never seemed to realise that other people weren't idiots or nincompoops.

"Brother loves you, Winry. He doesn't want to hurt you. This habit of his pisses me off too, you know. But, I will do whatever I can to support him—even though he will vehemently deny it. That's how he is," Al said, patting her shoulder.

Winry smiled at him.

"How on earth can you two be so different?"

*/*/

**TABLE CITY,**

**MILOS-AMESTRIS BORDER, AMESTRIS**

It was a rare feat to surprise Travis Baker.

Today, he was beyond surprised. He was stunned.

He sat in the restaurant of the hotel, massacring the broccoli absent-mindedly as he contemplated again what he saw. And heard.

This was way more dangerous. Too dangerous to inform the Major General on phone.

He had to return to Western Command at the earliest.

*/*/

**ALSTENHEIM'S CABIN**

**WESTERN COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

Rei Alstenheim was rarely fidgety. Today, she looked as if she had drunk ten cups of coffee followed by three intravenous shots of caffeine.

She tried to sign through her paperwork but her mind was elsewhere. At this rate, she would have signed her own execution order.

 _Now wouldn't that be great,_ she thought wryly.

 _Don't worry, if anything happens I will take the fall._ She had promised so.

But now, she couldn't be so sure. She wasn't worried about herself, she was worried about the people in the dragon's mouth.

How long till it snapped shut?

A sharp knock on the door pulled her out of her reverie.

"Come in!" she said.

It was a young cadet from Communications.

"A telegram, ma'am!" he saluted, slightly frightened at being in her close proximity. She held her hand out for the paper and wordlessly dismissed him.

Her face looked grim as she read it. It was short and devoid of any embellishments, just like its sender.

_IT BEGINS._

*/*/

**RUINS OF XERXES**

**GREAT DESERT**

The first thing Riza Hawkeye realised when she woke up was the fact that her room was never this dusty. Her wrists were raised up and shackled to a sturdy water pipe, her legs tied by thick rope rending her immobile.

Sunlight streamed in through the cracks, making her realise that it was sometime near noon. She racked her brain—the last thing she remembered was searching for some good wine in her cellar.

She wondered what Roy was doing.

_Going crazy, I guess._

The door slid open, admitting a thickset man carrying a bent steel plate of bread and stew. Unappetizing yet after twelve hours of no food, she would have eaten paper. He wordlessly lowered her wrists by detaching the pipe—Riza made a mental note of that particular fact—and shoved the plate up her lap.

"Eat." he rumbled in a thick, foreign accent.

 _Decidedly Cretan,_ she mused.

She hungrily ate her paltry meal—it wasn't five star but she knew she needed her sustenance if she planned to break out.

"Middle of desert. No escape," the man said, the thick accent making the words almost unrecognisable.

"Why kidnap me?" she asked curiously. Very few people knew the fact that she was Fuhrer Grumman's granddaughter.

"Boss order. We follow," he answered. Riza realised he was the closest to an ally she could find here.

"I am just a soldier...one among many," she pushed on. But the man shook his head and walked away, this time leaving her wrists on her lap.

*/*/

**EASTBOUND TRAIN**

**AMESTRIS**

Roy was pacing up and down the compartment, trying to calm his frazzled nerves. The investigation team had deduced that Riza was taken across the border, along the direction of the ruins of Xerxes. Why wasn't he surprised...hadn't he hid Maria Ross in the same place?

But _why_? Why kidnap _her_? Was it to spite the Fuhrer?

He had never been this clueless in his life.

The parallel investigation into Ed's whereabouts had yielded no results. He couldn't help but grit his teeth—that blond knew the disappearing act a tad too well. Though people still ploughed on, it was highly unlikely that they would get any rewards for their efforts.

Ed would be found when he wanted to. End of story.

The sun had set a long time ago, they should reach the border town within an hour. He had left Fuery to handle things until Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong returned. He left his technical expert strict instructions to establish contact the moment Trisha Elric's doctor arrived at the Military Hospital.

He wrung his hands, willing the train to go faster. He hated not being able to do anything.

No one in Central apart from his few trusted subordinates and the Fuhrer knew about Riza's disappearance. Though the old man was renowned for taking difficult matters in his stride, this news manage to dim his eyes a little.

Family was family, after all.

"You have only one standing order, Brigadier General. I want her back," the Fuhrer had said.

And for once, Roy was glad to obey his order completely.

He had brought along Havoc and newly promoted Lieutenants Maria Ross and Danny Brosch. Havoc and Ross were incomparable where hunting in the crowds was required whereas Brosch, though a bit naive at times, could think when in a pinch.

_Don't worry Riza, I will find you._

*/*/

**RIZA HAWKEYE'S CONTAINMENT CELL**

**RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

Riza could only crawl in the dusty room, not able to do anything else. The shackles on her wrists were new and strong, and the knots on her legs were professional like those made by sailors.

Nope, she wasn't escaping any time soon.

She rolled towards the solitary crack of her room and peered out. The moon shone brightly over the ruins, lending an ethereal glow to the lone columns and fallen beams. She had heard about the ruins from the Elric brothers and had it on her bucket list.

She never imagined she would be visiting the place in this way.

 _Roy would be worried like hell_ , she mused as she pushed herself against the wall into a seated position.

It seemed like an eternity since that man came with food. Riza felt her stomach growl. She hoped he came soon.

After some indescribable amount of time, the door slid open and the man entered. His hands were empty.

"Get up. Boss meet," he said thickly, undoing the knots quickly on her legs while leaving her wrists shackled. Riza might have attempt a shot to freedom by launching a roundhouse kick at his family jewels but she was intrigued.

_Boss?_

A meeting cannot hurt...besides, she had a feeling that this was no simple kidnapping—something big was going on. And she intended to find it out.

The man prodded her with the butt of a rifle, making her move. Discreetly, she made a note of her surroundings. Her containment cell seemed to be the only standing structure around, the others consisting a random collection of pillars and cracked beams. As was typical with the deserts, the night air was cool. The shadows, courtesy to the full moon, seemed dark and long and looked like they had a mind of their own. The man prodded her again, prompting her to walk faster.

 _At least I have the shoes on_ , she thought.

Some distance ahead, she could the flickering light of a camp fire and a group of individuals sitting around it. All of them looked to be built along the same lines as the man who was escorting her.

She noticed one hooded man amongst them, whose built was slight and was shorter than the rest.

"Hostage bring," her escort announced.

The men stopped their discussion to look at their new arrival.

"Greetings, Major Hawkeye. I apologise for our accommodation but this is the best we have at the moment," one of them said in fluent Amestrian, a dangerous smile on his face.

Riza's eyes narrowed. The scars all over his face, the tiny beady eyes...

A face that was on the top of the International Red Alert Criminal List which every member of the military and the police worth their uniform knew by heart.

"Alfa Kazark, the head of Cretia Liberalia terrorist faction responsible for the supply of ammunition to the Ishballans during the Civil War," Riza spat angrily.

"Ah! I am honoured to be remembered for my services, Major," he said, bowing mockingly. "Xerxes is a very good hiding place, it seems. I had no idea but the new young recruit showed us this. He may be young but he is a genius. And what's more, he fully understands the cause."

Riza saw the hooded man give a twitch but otherwise didn't respond.

"But you are wrong on one count, Major," Alfa continued. "I am not the leader, I have never been. The leader was someone in the shadows all along."

Suddenly, Riza felt unbridled terror run down her spine...no no _no_!

"It has been a long time, Riza Hawkeye," a sibilant voice whispered from behind. The shadows seemed to converge a couple of feet in front of her and take the form of a nine-year-old boy who _couldn't_ be here.

"Selim Bradley?" she squeaked.

"Please do not utter the name of that container, it is a disgrace," he smirked, the shadows dancing around his feet.

"How is it possible?" she gasped, suddenly loosing the strength of her legs and falling on the ground.

"Impossibility does not exist for a Homunculus, Riza Hawkeye," said Pride, the fire dancing in his eyes.

*/*/

**THE GREAT DESERT**

**BEYOND THE AMESTRIS BORDER**

It was official. Roy Mustang hated the desert.

And the camel hated him like the bloody plague.

"Relax, boss. This guy won't eat you," Havoc called from his left, puffing away like the engine of the train that had alighted from a couple of hours ago. The moon was not directly above them but had begun her descent.

Roy wanted to reach the ruins of Xerxes before dawn, maybe take advantage of the enemy by playing it safe in the shadows.

"But General, how was Major Hawkeye's location traced?" Maria Ross asked finally, unable to hold her curiosity down anymore.

"Major Catalina was about to leave for Xing on some diplomatic assignment when she received my request. I dare say we are lucky that her route passed close to the ones taken by Major Hawkeye's interceptors," said Roy testily, trying to keep his voice level.

"Rebecca had a heart attack when she came to know that the Hawk's eye was missing," Havoc added, urging his camel to get a bit closer to Roy's. He could swear that the camel contemplated taking a bite off his leg.

"Of course she would," said Roy absently, jerking his leg away from the camel's line of sight. Havoc remained oblivious to this little by-play as he puffed away, though his posture was that of rigid alertness.

They have traced the Hawk's eye, but Roy couldn't shake away the uneasiness that pooled in his stomach—why did it feel so easy?

"Brigadier General sir, the ruins are in sight," said Ross suddenly, pointing towards the horizon. Roy could see the pillars in the moonlight, looking ethereal and otherworldly.

_Riza...be safe..._

**21B CAMELOT APARTMENTS**

**WEST CITY, AMESTRIS**

Travis attacked the rice and curry like a man starved for months.

"I was under the impression that the Homunculi didn't need food for survival," Rei remarked as she watched him gobble down dinner.

"Nope, we don't. But I get this funny feeling somewhere around my stomach when I am tensed like shit—and it goes away if I stuff my face," Travis replied between mouthfuls.

"If you say so," Rei said dubiously.

Since the nightmare began three years ago, Rei hadn't been following the normal homo sapiens pattern of sleeping and waking up. Add into it the weird time for food.

She had forgotten the last time she had slept peacefully.

After Travis finished "stuffing his face", he took the plate from the dining table, washed it in the sink and slid it into the rack for drying. Sometime ago, it would have been awkward but now, as he more or less stayed in her house he began to help out in some of the housework.

Rei made some coffee while Travis took a trip down the bathroom.

Then, at the unearthly hour of four in the morning, the duo sat in the living room with mugs in their hands.

"As you know, Creta is a monarchy but the path of ascension to the throne is much more simpler than that in Xing," Travis began, inhaling in the aroma with a sigh.

"From parent to child, or oldest child. Yep, I know that," Rei nodded, sipping hers.

"The current ruler, His Majesty Johann Faust the Seventh is a nice person. But nice people hardly make efficient rulers. His benevolence is proving to be fodder for the ministers who are looking for a big cherry in the pie. Losing Milos was a big blow, more to its image than any other thing. And you know it as well as I do that Amestris covertly helped Milos to gain freedom," Travis explained.

"Yeah, I remember that incident...I was a Colonel that time when my CO oversaw the operation," Rei said thoughtfully.

"In short, Creta has a bone to pick with our beloved Amestris. And when they have found an influential Amestrian to spearhead their cause, then you do realise that roots run deep here," Travis continued as he sipped in the hot black liquid with a misplaced bliss on his face.

Rei's eyes narrowed at this information.

"Influential? How influential?" she asked.

"Influential like hell, General," Travis said, a sense of foreboding hanging heavy in the air.

*/*/

**RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

Roy and his team crept forward, their nerves alert for any sign of disturbance. Though he didn't need his gloves anymore, he still wore them as a force of habit.

The roughness of the ignition cloth against his skin felt reassuring.

Besides, clapping was never his style.

Havoc held his rifle in readiness, ready to shoot at split second stimulus. Ross covered the flank while Brosch came in rear, both of them holding their revolvers in position.

_Almost there, Riza..._

"Movement at twelve-o-clock, boss," Havoc said in a low voice, sighting through the scope of his rifle.

"Three in sight...heavy built. Looks Cretan."

_Trouble is brewing in the west...did Fullmetal mean Creta?_

Roy crouched behind a boulder as he gathered his thoughts. If an international group kidnapped Riza, then he had to rescue her without turning the escapade into a diplomatic nightmare. Creta was more than ready to indulge in war, he had to make sure Amestris didn't pull the trigger first.

_Goddamit!_

But he couldn't help but wonder what the Cretans were doing so far away from home.

"Sir, it will be light in an hour," Ross reminded him.

"Right. Lets move forward. But be sure that we don't do more damage than necessary. Riza being the First Granddaughter is not exactly a public domain information. And we want to keep it that way." Roy replied, fisting his fingers in determination.

The party moved forward, Havoc keeping the Cretan group in sight.

After they reached considerably close, Roy decided to throw caution to the winds.

"I would like to retrieve my subordinate you kidnapped," he said as he confidently stepped into the light.

Havoc, Ross and Brosch looked on flabbergasted though they knew sneaking wasn't their commander's forte.

The bulkiest of them all, stood up. Roy saw a smile on his face, which disfigured his already scarred face in a more horrible manner.

"Ah! The Flame Alchemist Roy Mustang, Hero of Ishbal. Welcome to our abode, dear sir. Our leader had been awaiting your arrival since the last hour—sneaking in the shadows hardly does your _pride_ justice, does it?"

Roy took a step back as the image flitted into recognition.

"Alfa Kazark," he spat, as he poised his fingers to snap.

The Cretan looked delighted to be recognised.

"I am famous, it seems. Miss Hawkeye recognised me too. And when we are immersing ourselves in discussion, why don't you ask the other three members come into the light? The more the merrier, is it not correct?"

_How did he know? This is bad._

Roy motioned the trio to step forward, knowing that their cover was blown. But still, he was confident.

He _was_ the Flame Alchemist after all.

"Where is Major Hawkeye?" he asked flatly, though his eyes danced with suppressed rage.

"Not to worry, not to worry...out leader has a soft spot for your subordinate, it would seem. But our target was not Miss Hawkeye." Kazark stood a little to the side, throwing a seated figure into sharp relief.

"This kid knew that if we brought in Hawkeye, you would come to rescue her. So why should _we_ traipse all over Amestris when we can get the quarry walk up to us? This newbie might be young, but he is a real prodigy."

Roy looked at seated figure whose hood was drawn up to cover his face entirely.

_Such a young kid?_

"I do not care, Kazark. Hand over Hawkeye," Roy said again. He got the impression that they were at present surrounded.

"Now now, Mustang...calm down. We do not want things to mess up."

That sibilant voice made his hairs stand on its end... _this is not possible_...

Riza stepped into his field of vision, her wrists shackled.

He was glad to see that she was physically unharmed. But her russet eyes looked terrorised.

And he soon found the cause.

"Good to see you again, Mustang. I am feeling nostalgic," Pride chuckled, as shadows danced around him.

"You were... _you were destroyed..._ " Roy spluttered, his fingers wavering.

"I am a Homunculus, Mustang. With help, I can be recreated," Pride said, tossing his hand like a petulant child. "Cretan alchemy is far more advanced where living transmutations are concerned, it seems. And apparently, a group of people were quite dedicated to our cause. Shame Father had to die—but then again, he was not really a good father. I was glad to find a compatriot in that latter regard."

_What the hell..._

But he couldn't shake off the feeling that Riza was trying to tell him something—her eyes kept shifting to the short, shrouded individual sitting next to her.

"Boss, we are hellishly outnumbered here," Havoc muttered, his fingers ready on the trigger. "Use your flames and get us out of here. I don't like it."

"Me neither," Roy muttered back. "Inform the other two. I snap, get Riza and escape. Once we cross into Amestris, we would need to let the Fuhrer know. I get a feeling Pride is not up to his full strength yet—otherwise he is not the type to rely on humans. So I guess escape is possible."

He could hear Havoc pass on the message. He gritted his teeth.

 _One snap does it_.

Riza was not held by anyone as such...he could easily swoop her off.

Apparently the kidnappers seemed pretty confident.

He poised his fingers to snap.

He snapped.

And nothing happened.

He felt a slight nick over his knuckles—that mysterious "recruit" had slashed his gloves and currently pointed the knife at his neck.

_Hang on a sec..._

"You could clap, you know. Gloves can be useless."

_That voice..._

The attacker removed his hood.

A wealth of blond hair assaulted his eyes as it was lit with the first rays of the sun.

"Good morning, bastard," said Edward Elric grimly, a gun pointed towards the other three while the knife was placed dangerously close to his neck.


	18. Spiral of Truth

**THREE YEARS AGO**

* * *

**ALSTENHEIM'S CABIN**

**WESTERN COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

Edward Elric sat on the couch in the waiting area of the Brigadier General's cabin, trying to curb his impatience by resorting to tapping his automail knee.

_Oh come on...call me in already!_

After half-an-hour or so, he saw a harried young soldier emerge from the office and jumped up to his feet before the secretary could let him in.

"Don't worry, I can let myself in!" he said quickly, leaving the woman gape at him in a bemused manner in his wake.

After returning from Milos, he had been staying at the West City Barracks for at least a month—reading through the library from the top to the bottom. And his surmise was correct—Milosian Alchemy had its roots in Creta where alchemy was older the one practised in Amestris. The only cinch was the fact that there were not many active practitioners of the subject on the Cretan soil.

He needed to visit Amestris' most hostile neighbour in person to get the information he needed.

"And you do realise that the Cretans are waiting to sink their claws into you? Aren't you being hasty here?" Alsteheim asked, surveying him through narrowed eyes.

"I know, General. But there is seriously no other way," Ed answered. "I know they are more than eager to instigate a war with us but trust me, I will keep my head down, do my work and come back before anyone's any wiser."

"You...keep your head down?" she smirked, making him blush slightly.

"Yeah...er...I won't go and destroy stuff..." he mumbled, making her smirk widen. "I am not a kid."

"Yeah, all right. Dr. Marcoh and Scar have already left for Creta—said they have some research to do. Why don't you go and while you are at it, drop them a visit?" she said, slightly grim.

"What's it, General?" he asked quickly.

"I can't say much...they missed the last two check-ins. And this is making me feel a bit uneasy. If you can find them and get them to pass a message, it would be a source of relief for me. Creta is hostile territory after all," she answered.

He frowned. The Crystal Alchemist and the Ishvallan weren't tardy as far as he knew.

"Okay, I will drop in, get Marcoh and Scar, get the info and come back. Say three weeks should do the trick," said Ed, getting up.

Alstenheim nodded.

"Go to my secretary, she will give you the necessary documents," she said.

Ed nodded back and was about to walk out when she called again.

"And Ed, Rei's fine. Friends don't refer to each other by ranks, do they?" she smirked again.

Ed couldn't help but stutter out a response. _Dammit Ed, stop blushing like a hormone-overloaded teen already!_

"Okay...Rei," he managed to say.

* * *

**TRAIN TOWARDS THE WEST BORDER**

Ed sat next to a window, watching the scenery as it passed by.

_Why do I blush like mad when I am around her?_

Rei Alstenheim was nothing like Mustang—for starters, she wasn't an insufferable bastard with a god complex. Though she seemed dangerous and a bit wary, he connected with her at some level.

 _Maybe being the youngest alchemists to crack the damn exam has something to do with it_.

He rested his chin on his palms. Nope, he wasn't crushing on her.

He was seventeen, for god's sake! And she was older than him, though not as ancient as a certain Colonel.

But, said a nagging voice sounding irritatingly like Hughes, he couldn't help but _like_ her. After all, how many people took a raving alchemist in her stride? He cringed slightly as he remembered meeting her in the café after he returned from Milos.

No wonder people still considered him to be a juvenile.

He loved Winry, no doubt about that.

But Rei, he couldn't help but feel that just like Hawkeye and the rest, she was _family_.

* * *

**21 B, CAMELOT APARTMENTS**

**WEST CITY, AMESTRIS**

Rei paced her apartment, almost wearing down the carpet.

"I sent him for three weeks, and it has been three _months_ now, Travis. Where the hell is he?" she snapped finally, flopping on an armchair.

Travis looked at her thoughtfully as he swirled the spoon in his soup. "Last contact?" he asked.

"Last scheduled check-in two months back," she replied automatically. She wrung her hands in despair and was seriously contemplating on calling Mustang and breaking her silence.

_Damn pipsqueak! Making me promise something like that! No wonder Roy is always worried about you._

"Calm down Rei...that guy took on Father with his fists. Give him some credit," Travis said soothingly, spooning in the soup finally.

"This Father nutjob could have been insanely powerful, but he was one guy—Creta hates Amestris with passion. No one person can stand and defend oneself against an entire nation," she replied.

"Whatever it is, get some food in yourself. Warm stomach begets good strategies, General," Travis quipped.

Rei gave him a glare, only to be replied with a nonchalant shrug.

 _He's not wrong,_ she mused. And yeah, she was hungry. A little.

It was past midnight when a volley of knocks on her door shattered the semblance of silence in her apartment. She motioned Travis to hide while she went to the door.

It was a tired, messed-up and a really disgruntled Edward Elric.

"Ed you idiot!" she gasped, quickly ushering him inside and closing the door. Travis bounded into the living room when he heard her gasp.

His attire looked like as if it had seen better days. His hair was streaked with grime and mud while his knuckles bore evidence of half-healed bruises and scratches.

Travis gave a low whistle. "You seriously look wrung out, kid. What in the world happened to you?"

"Long story..." Ed mumbled, swaying on his feet. Rei shot out an arm to support him and guided him to the couch.

"Get the bath ready, Travis. And do you have a change of clothes with you?" she barked.

"I think I have a pair of shorts and a t-shirt," he replied, already walking towards the bathroom.

After a bath and a warm dinner, she could see colour return in his pale cheeks, though he was still buried under a pile of blankets as he lay on the couch.

"Ed...what happened?" she asked gently, sitting next to him.

"It's bad, Rei. And, it's one huge pain in the ass."

"So let me get this straight...Pride is alive? He's pulling the strings behind the terrorist faction responsible for Ishval? And the cherry on the cake is this that the same terrorist group is trying to overthrow the Cretan monarchy and establish a puppet ruler...while becoming immortal and annihilating Amestris while they are at it...man, this is nuts!" Travis whistled.

"And you are positive that someone really high up the Amestrian brass is helping them out?" Rei asked.

Ed nodded.

"They are repeating what Bradley and Father planned out for this country. Only that the sacrificial lamb is Creta this time," he said. "It's like a win-all situation for everyone—Pride becomes immortal, Kazark becomes the ruler and Amestris is wiped off the map."

"But why is this Amestrian...the spy or mole or whatever, what motive might that person have? At least during Bradley's reign, the top military men had the incentive of getting the Philosopher's Stone. What incentive is this guy being offered?" Rei mused.

"A completely valid question, Rei," Ed answered.

"And what about Dr. Marcoh and Scar?" Travis asked.

"Most probably Dr. Marcoh is being forced to research again into the Philosopher's Stone," Ed sighed heavily, dislodging one of the blankets. Rei's soup had warmed him enough.

Rei looked worried at the revelation, her amber orbs clouded with distress.

"This is super bad," she said slowly, leaning back on to the couch. Ed quickly folded in his legs, trying to stop the tell-tale signs of red creep up his face. Unfortunately, the Homunculus saw it and gave him a conspiratorial grin.

Ed glared back.

Oblivious to this little byplay, Rei continued to muse on her own.

"I could always send someone from the Investigations Department as a spy, you know, try and infiltrate the organisation," said Rei slowly.

"I could go," Ed supplied.

A pin-drop silence followed his suggestion.

"Edward Elric, Roy told me you had a crazy streak but are you _freaking suicidal_?" she said angrily. "You vanish for months, come back looking like a walking corpse and now have the audacity to suggest such idiocy...damn, who gave you your State Alchemist certification?"

Ed listened to her patiently before answering. "It's a golden opportunity, Rei. I can research my..er... _problem_ while I get cosy with Pride...and I know Pride would be glad to have me by his side."

"And why would that be, young alchemist?" Travis questioned.

"He tried to possess me back during the Promised Day...whatever it is, he has some sort of an interest in me. And I can use that to my advantage," Ed reasoned.

Rei shook her head. "This is a fool's bargain, Ed. You are the one who _kicked_ their butts...they would love to _kill_ you, not welcome you!"

Travis scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe he has a point, Rei. Consider this—he lost his alchemy and he is ill. He is ignored by people. His brother leads a happy life. He can't. He gets bitter. He switches sides. How does that sound?"

"Complete bullshit," Rei snapped. "I am the ranking officer here and I will _not_ allow this. We have trained spies at the command centre—I will dispatch a team tomorrow. Ed, you are staying here. Go to Drachma or wherever but _you are not setting one foot in Creta,_ got that?"

She looked positively furious at the moment.

"Travis has a point, Rei. And besides, the less number of people know, the better. We don't know who's the mole on our side," Ed said softly.

Rei looked slightly deflated—she understood the merits of the idea but wasn't willing to put it into action.

"I have a contact of mine in Creta...a chimera I helped escape from the laboratories. He will keep a watch on Ed if I ask him to," Travis suggested. "Rei, I know it sounds cruel but Ed is the best hope we have. And anyway, he has to go back to Creta for his research. And ironically, if he is accepted into Kazark's fold, he can research in peace."

Rei's shoulders slumped slightly. "All right. Go, you idiot. But promise me, you won't do anything reckless. Update me every week—even if if you have to blow your cover. Your safety should be your first priority. And if you miss a check-in, I will send in a retrieval squad after twenty-four hours. Agreeable?"

Ed smiled as he nodded. "All right, mother hen. When do I leave?"

* * *

**PRESENT DAY**

* * *

**RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

"What the hell is this, Fullmetal? You were supposed to be in the hospital," Roy said, raising his hands in surrender. Those amber eyes were hard and Roy knew they weren't open for negotiation.

"I hate hospitals, Mustang. I thought you knew that," Ed replied, adjusting the knife to a more accurate position. Roy felt Havoc's eye drill daggers into the back of his head, unanswered questions hanging thick in the air. Riza looked worn out as she slid on her knees, looking defeated.

Roy realised that now, at this very moment, he was truly and utterly helpless.

"Why? I think you owe me that much," Roy pleaded, willing his youngest subordinate to explain him something that would make the helplessness go away.

"Why, Mustang? You of all people ask _me_ why?" The laugh was harsh, not the open, free manner he was accustomed to hearing.

"You do realise you would be killing Al if he finds out about this," he added quietly.

A soft, sad look crossed his face but when Roy tried to focus in, the impassive mask was back in place.

"I did my job there—I got him his body. There's nothing more to it," Edward said through gritted teeth.

Those words were sharp enough to cut through steel, icy enough to freeze the warmest of hearts.

"What are you saying, you idiot?!" Roy yelled, not caring that he was in the middle of a hostile situation. He just couldn't believe the complete volte-face of his subordinate. "Your brother is your life..."

"NOT ANYMORE!"

That shocked everyone into silence. Even Pride looked at them with interest.

"I gave up half my limbs to save him that night...and I gave up my alchemy to bring him back...WHEN DO I LIVE MY LIFE MY FREAKING WAY?" Edward yelled.

Roy saw the knife trembling in his hands.

"You got your eyesight back—but I lost my alchemy forever," he continued quietly. "You realise how hard it is to stand by and watch other people doing it? From young kids to State Alchemists...I just couldn't take it anymore! And Al is all happy, whole and well—why is it only _me_ that has to suffer everytime? And then throw this stupid illness into my torture basket...I am tired of living for others, Mustang. I never did say that I was a self-proclaimed martyr—I want to live just as much as the next person."

Roy listened quietly. All those years, since the day he had become the Fullmetal Alchemist, he had been moving forward for his brother. Whatever he did, Al came first.

Even when Scar ambushed him all those years ago, he was willing to die if that meant Al could live.

He felt a sudden heaviness in his chest that had nothing to do with physical status—maybe all of them had taken Ed a bit _too much_ for granted.

And Ed was right—no one suffered any losses from the Promised Day. None but him.

And truth be told, he couldn't answer the blond's question.

"But is _this_ the answer?" he asked quietly. "Helping these terrorists, they killed innocent people for god's sake! And they are planning to kill even more, and you are going to help them?"

"Stop that morality lecture, bastard. It is not as if your hands are squeaky clean, are they?" Ed shot back.

That hit home.

"Boss, we can always sit and discuss..." Havoc began half-heartedly.

"Shut your whining, Havoc," Ed interjected, aiming the gun directly between his brows.

"I guess you have had enough reminiscing for a day," said Pride, clapping his hands. "Edward Elric, why don't you see that our prisoners are well-settled in their respective rooms? I need to discuss something with Kazark."

Ed nodded, lowering his weapons and pocketing them. Roy was tempted to snap with his other finger and get the hell out of here but Riza was still held by a burly Cretan. He couldn't risk it. But he had one thing he needed to clear.

"You died that day, Pride. Fullmetal destroyed you when you were about to take his body as your container," he pressed on.

To his surprise, Pride chuckled.

"Can you destroy shadows, Roy Mustang?" he asked, the rising sun throwing the shadows in sharp relief.

* * *

**MUSTANG'S CABIN**

**CENTRAL COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

The Command Centre was currently deserted—who would in their right mind come to work three freaking hours early?

But the outer office of Brigadier General Roy Mustang was anything but empty.

Second Lieutenant Kain Fuery was busy scribbling down codes that he came across as he tinkered with the switchboard while Alphonse Elric was studying the logs he obtained from Sheska.

Suddenly, a tinny voice caught amid the static caught Fuery's attention.

" _Zhè shì bù kěnéng de. Wǒmen bùnéng shīqù gèng duō de rén zài nǐ de zhège jìhuà..."_

He couldn't help but frown at the transmission—in his snooping, he did encounter many weird languages but this one was making him feel uneasy.

" _Mustang_ _shāle, rúguǒ nǐ yào. Dàn wǒ xiǎng_ _Edward Elric_ _huózhe..."_

_Mustang? As in Roy Mustang? Edward Elric?_

Fuery must have gone pale as Al looked up from his perusing and prompted concernedly.

"Mr. Fuery, are you alright?" he asked, placing the files on the table and walking up to him at the switchboard.

"Hey Al, you understand Xingese, right?" Fuery asked, his hands slightly trembling.

"Passable. But why are you asking me that? Is something wrong?" Al asked, worry drawing creaselines on his brow.

"This transmission...sounds Xingese...I don't know. I am putting it up on speaker."

Al sat down on what was Havoc's seat and listened.

And what he heard made him go as pale as the untouched snow.

" _Líng yào. Wǒ yào tā sǐle."_

_Ling Yao. I want him dead._

* * *

**TRAIN HEADING TOWARDS CENTRAL**

May hated trains.

Though as a child, she loved it as it signified the beginning of a brand new adventure in her mind's eye. But after three long years of travelling in these stuffy contraptions as a part of the stupid, slant-eyed king's delegation, she had enough of it. Only the thought of seeing Alphonse at the end of the journey prevented her from blowing up the thing.

She remembered him saying that her temperament was a lot like his older brother.

" _I am nothing like that heart-breaker!"_ she had insisted.

" _Heart-breaker? When on earth did Brother become a heart-breaker?"_ Alphonse had asked in a bemused voice.

She blushed slightly at the memory.

_You love him, don't you?_

She clamped down her mental voice which annoyingly sounded like her half-brother.

She looked out at the scenery, contemplating the thought.

She liked him all right—he was gentle, fun and could discuss alchemy at dinner time. He was a quick learner and even Xiao May liked him.

But did she _love_ Alphonse Elric?

Her heartbeat quickened at the thought.

 _Maybe I do_.

* * *

**LING'S PERSONAL QUARTERS**

**THE ROYAL PALACE**

**SHIN-KA, XING**

"Dr. Chang? Is this really what I think it is?" Ling whispered as he read the one page summary of Aruo's research.

The said man nodded grimly, not commenting on the usage of his formal title for once.

"This is bad...real catastrophic bad," Ling continued in that uncharacteristic grave manner, fingering the area where he once had his Ouraboros tattoo.

"How many people know about this, Aruo?" he asked.

"The senior staff, apart from me," Aruo replied.

Ling clutched the paper tightly as his brows creased thoughtfully. "Burn the research. I cannot afford to let this come into the hands of some power-hungry fool—I will deliver the message to Edward personally. And, you along with the senior staff are under the crown's irrefutable order to _not_ speak of this to anyone—living, dead, animate, inanimate."

Aruo bowed in reply and exited the quarters.

Ling went over to the phone and dialled a number.

* * *

**21 B CAMELOT APARTMENTS**

**WEST CITY, AMESTRIS**

It was early morning when the phone rang. Rei dug deep into her blankets, willing the phone to stop its shrill ringing. She opened one bleary eye—she hadn't even slept for two hours.

She heard Travis pick it up.

Then she heard a knock on the bedroom door.

"General, it's for you. And it's a secure line, so hurry up," he called.

_Secure line?_

There was only one person she knew who had a secure line to her phone.

_Why is the Emperor of Xing calling me?_

She quickly scrambled off her bed, threw on a dressing gown and hurried to the phone in the hall.

"Major General Alstenheim here," she said cautiously.

"Ling here...Aruo got the results Ed asked for. And it is freaking bad," said the voice from the other side.

Rei frowned. She remembered Ed asking her to send his letter to Ling the last time he managed into sneak into West City. Something about alkahestry he wasn't clear about.

"What's bad?" she asked cautiously, her heart beating a loud tattoo in her chest. She saw Travis come and stand next to her through her peripheral vision, hanging on to her every word.

"You remember Ed's theory about Creta planning some sort of a transmutation circle, like what was planned for Amestris?" Ling said.

"Yeah...but he discarded it almost immediately as there was no evidence to support the same," she replied, apprehension building in her chest. "You are scaring me, Ling. What is the matter?"

"Pride is not planning a nationwide transmutation circle...it was never his goal in the first place. We are really stupid humans after all, we forgot Pride's way of thinking. He would never have been satisfied with something so small scale," Ling began, tension thick in his voice.

"Stop beating about the bush, Ling," Rei said.

"Pride is planning a grander scale of disaster this time, Rei. He is planning a _continental transmutation circle_...he is going to overload the Gate with so much energy that _he himself will become the Gate for all eternity_."


	19. Dissident's Creed

**MUSTANG'S CABIN**

**CENTRAL COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

"Al, are you positive? Like sure-as-hell?" Winry asked.

Al nodded. "I don't pride myself on being a Xingese scholar or something but that transmission was as clear as daylight. Someone is planning to assassinate Ling...and somehow Brother and the General are wrapped up in it."

Winry looked grim as she stared out of the window that overlooked the parade grounds. The morning parade was in session, the new cadets running the circuit.

_Where are you, Ed?_

Al stood next to her, though she knew he was hardly registering the scenery in his eye.

"So, what are you going to do now?" she questioned.

"I dunno, Winry...I was supposed to leave for Xing at the end of this week though I dare say I can now, considering the circumstances. There is no one here in Central whom we can trust—Major Hawkeye has been kidnapped, Lieutenant Havoc is with the General and Second Lieutenant Fuery is keeping his ears open at the switchboard. I feel so _helpless_!" Al said bitterly, slamming his fist onto the wall next to the window.

Just then the door opened, allowing a giant, hulking figure of a man with a tuft of blond hair and clad in military blues into the outer office.

"Is that despair I hear, Alphonse Elric?" boomed Lieutenant Colonel Alex Louis Armstrong, a hand raised in greeting. Winry swore she could see pink sparkles dance around him.

Al looked hopefully at the new entrant.

"Hello, Lieutenant Colonel," Winry greeted, Al following her lead. She could see he was still distracted.

"Good morning Winry, Alphonse," he boomed, settling on the visitor's couch and letting out a sigh. "Mrs. Pinako Rockbell sends her wishes."

"Granny? You went to Resembool?" Al asked, surprised.

Armstrong nodded. "The General wanted me to hunt down the doctor who treated your mother. He believed the man might provide us with some valuable insight in regard to Edward's condition."

"I see...have you found him?"

"As a matter of fact, I did. Dr. David Matthews is in conversation with Dr. Rainsworth as we speak."

Al sighed at the news, Winry echoing the sentiment.

She looked out of the window, seeing the various buildings of the command centre bathe itself in the morning sunshine.

_Wherever you are, Ed...please come back to me..._

_*/*/_

**21B CAMELOT APARTMENTS**

**WEST CITY, AMESTRIS**

"Is it wise? I mean, the action's gonna be _here_ in the West...so why depart for Central?" Travis asked as he watched Rei cram in a change of clothes into a small duffel bag.

"Hawkeye's been kidnapped...Roy is not in Central. And you say someone from the Fuhrer's own office is involved...enumerate one single reason as to why should I stay _here_?" Rei said, combing her hair and tying it up with a scrunchie.

"I saw the Head Secretary leave that meeting room in Table City..." Travis trailed off. He was apprehensive to leave for Central—that was the place where he was created and contained. He had no interest to return to his version of hell.

Clad in a pair of baggy black knee-length shorts, a pink t-shirt and a pair of giant sunshades, Rei looked the perfect tourist.

"Wear a shirt for god's sake...I don't want you parading around with that tattoo of yours," she snapped.

Travis sighed as he threw on a pale brown shirt over his trademark singlet. No sleep and lot's of stress made Rei a really snappy woman.

"All right, let's move out."

*/*/

**CONTAINMENT CELL**

**RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

Roy should have been glad that only his hands were cuffed to a water-pipe while his legs were loose. Riza was sitting next to him, her shackled wrists resting on her lap while her face held a gaunt look. Havoc, spruced up like him, was periodically nodding away while Brosch and Ross were cuffed to the pipe running along the wall opposite him.

In the middle of the room on a spindly chair sat Edward.

He had ditched the cloak and the long brown coat he had been wearing, leaving him clad only in his white shirt open at the collar, brown trousers and black knee-length boots. He was currently cleaning his gun with a piece of cloth, though Roy knew that one bit of suspicious movement from his side will attract the blond's attention like bees to pollen.

"You hated guns, you used to say that they are meant to kill people," said Riza softly, eyeing the dark grey metal contraption looking so out of place in his hands.

"I was naive, Hawkeye," Edward replied, not looking up. "There are many things in this world, some stuff's worse than killing."

Roy looked at his hands—no gloves and certainly he couldn't clap. That damn pipsqueak!

"Don't think of doing alchemy, Mustang," the blond said, amber eyes examining him shrewdly. "Pride's got a point—you cannot kill the shadows."

"Edward, why are you doing this?" Roy pleaded. He still refused to believe what his brain was processing—Edward Elric could be an obnoxious brat but he would _never_ betray anyone.

He _couldn't_ betray anyone.

The said man replaced the gun on the rear of the waistband of his trousers before standing up.

"You cannot always know everything, can you Mustang?" he said softly as he exited the room.

The door shut with a small sigh, leaving the dark haired man a little taken aback.

"Did something happen, Roy?" Riza asked quietly, not bothering with propriety at the moment.

"I don't know, Riza," he sighed, leaning back on the wall. For the life of him, he couldn't understand which step did he take wrong in this situation. And for once, he failed to understand what was going on underneath all that mass of fiery blond hair.

Edward could be rash, but his actions were usually justified. What on earth could explain the steps he is currently taking?

"Hey Riza, over the years, do you think I have been a bit too hard on him?" he asked honestly. Her russet orbs clouded as she struggled to form words, as if trying to soften the blow of a really rusty claw hammer.

"It's...I can't explain but...when he joined the military, he was just a child. A young boy forced to grow up too quickly. _He_ was the one who had to report to you, the person who was responsible for both the Elrics' way of living. He didn't just play the role of a brother; he was a father, mother, uncle, nurse, teacher and friend all rolled into one. Not an easy burden to carry. And he had been doing that since the day their mother died." Riza shifted her wrists slightly to prevent the shackles from chafing the thin, raw skin before continuing.

"In a twisted sense of karma, Al still retained his childhood naivety as he couldn't join the military due to his soul being lodged in the armour. Granted, he travelled with Ed but not as an officer, more like a child accompanying his father to office. He wasn't the one who got treated like dirt at places where the military was abhorred. He wasn't the one who had to take decisions that could create or destroy people's lives. It was Ed. And he was twelve."

Roy couldn't help but cringe slightly; he was responsible for this too.

"Roy," Riza said gently, placing a palm on his knee. "I know you tried real hard to spare them the horrors, and you know as well as I do—this was perhaps the only way you could have helped them."

He grimaced as he recalled the many times Edward had to deliver the report from the hospital because he had been injured in some mission. The times when instead of kicking the door wide open, the boy had just glided in with a gaunt look as if he had witnessed Purgatory itself.

The times when he used to leave Al behind on the pretext of research just so that the younger Elric would be spared the sights that needn't be witnessed.

The sights no child...no human...need ever see.

Edward had loads of reasons to be pissed at the world.

He frowned as he tried to prevent his logical half of mind squash his intuition flat—something felt off.

He looked at the spindly chair.

On the seat were two pristine white gloves with the embroidered transmutation circles clearly visible.

*/*/

**OLD SQUARE**

**RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

Ed lounged in the shade of an outcropping, wiping the sweat from his brow as he watched the sun set. The days were long on this side of the world, and the desert made its business to make it as uncomfortable as hell.

He kicked the boot off his left leg and poured the water left in his canteen over the automail, watching the drop sizzle and vaporize in the heat.

_Winry's gotta make something to last in the desert...metal is suicidal._

The Cretan group had left for a rendezvous with their Xingese sponsor a while ago, leaving behind only a handful of guards patrolling the ruins.

A motley group of thugs he could kick to oblivion with his hands tied and eyes blindfolded.

_Pride trusts me? Or is that git testing me?_

He hitched up his hair into a tighter ponytail, revelling in the cool breeze that swept past his sweaty nape.

_Hope that bastard knows how to take a hint._

He wondered what that Xingese person had in it for this plan to succeed. Perhaps they too wanted to see Amestris in ruins. Or perhaps slit Ling's throat and claim the slant-eyed brat's throne.

A grin worked up his lips as a comical image of Ling with a slit throat running about like a zombie crossed his mind.

_That guy's a cockroach—he would even survive the apocalypse and eat life into extinction._

He stretched his arms, feeling the satisfied _pop_ as lethargy slowly flowed away, leaving him in a state between laziness and activity. He watched the sun.

It had gone down. A little.

He felt a little bad in spouting all that vitriol all over Mustang, though a little awed at how right Travis was.

" _Revenge dramas work like a charm, kid. And Pride being the folly he was named after, he wouldn't see it coming. Just play it safe and sit back to watch the fun."_

But there was no other way he could have got Mustang to believe him—that man could be devilishly thick-headed when he wanted to. And, though he would rather die than admit it out loud, that man looked disappointed in himself.

As if he had done something unpardonable.

 _After all this is over, I will make it up to him...perhaps I will knock for once? Or maybe I could salute him_.

Just a few more hours before Pride forced the gate open.

Few more hours until all hell broke loose.

*/*/

**XING DIPLOMATIC RESIDENCY**

**THE NATIONAL CENTRE FOR THE PROMOTION OF CROSSBORDER RELATIONS**

**CENTRAL, AMESTRIS**

May lay on the soft downy mattress, feeling already rejuvenated. Funny what five seconds of comfort could accomplish.

She had already kicked off her shoes to the farthest corners of the room, trying to centre in her thoughts.

_Ying Fa...I wonder what is she really up to..._

The Fa clan had been targeting the throne for ages now, even killing off their own clan members just so their position is secure and the competition is reduced.

She wouldn't put it past the Fa heiress to sabotage the prospect of future relations with the neighbouring countries just so she could hog the throne all for herself.

_That Ling might act like a dork at times, but he's a conscientious and a reliable dork; he thinks for the people. To be a king is not easy, one has to think about the happiness about a million people before oneself._

She certainly didn't envy Ling his job. But, she mused as she twisted one end of her braid and stared at the pristine white domed ceiling, something about the picture was not quite right.

They were missing something.

*/*/

**TRAIN FROM WEST CITY TO CENTRAL**

Travis propped his feet on the bench opposite him, looking out of the window in disdain. He had to sadly sacrifice his singlet and shorts for a pale blue shirt and trousers, though he had rolled the sleeves past his elbow and opened a couple of buttons in order to tempt the wind cool down his body.

"It is not if you are going to _die_ due to the heat, you know," Rei commented as she read through a paperback she bought in the previous station.

"It doesn't mean I'm not feeling it or anything...why couldn't I wear my regular outfit? You are happily scampering in that holiday garb of yours," Travis muttered, fanning his face with his hands as the wind made his sandy hair stand up in all directions.

"I'm in _disguise_ ," she replied happily, completely ignoring his tone as she flipped a page. "Besides, Central people don't wear stuff like yours—you would stand out like a sore thumb."

"As if she wouldn't attract attention," Travis muttered back, resuming the perusal of the scenery.

Rei thumbed the page to mark her place and place the book in her bag before taking out a slim rectangular box. It was longer than the box that housed the normal playing cards, but the width was similar to that.

On the top was an intricate transmutation circle that glowed briefly before the container slid out. Inside was a pack of white cards, all drawn on with a variety of transmutation circles. She sifted through the pile before her hand hovered on the last one.

The one she had created along with Ed.

She looked up to see Travis' chestnut eyes boring into her.

"Checking your arsenal?" he asked. Rei nodded.

"I've heard about your alchemy, though I have never actually witnessed it first hand. But without those cards, you are useless, aren't you?" he questioned, looking at the box with interest.

A vision of wet gloves swam in front of her as she smiled. "Nope, not as useless as someone I know. Disadvantaged, yes. Useless, nope. No way."

She picked up the card and examined the transmutation circle critically for perhaps the thousandth time since the day she had finally drawn it. The lines, curves and symbols were enough to make an experienced alchemist look baffled; one single mistake and there wouldn't be enough of her to fill an eggcup.

She just hoped that it worked.

*/*/

**THE RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

Ed walked the perimeter, his hands deep in his pockets as he savoured the cool evening air. The sun had finally set, though it would be hours before he could call the night sky black; the violet and stray maroon strains still painted the horizon. He checked his watch.

Pride and his bunch of merry men never left the base for this long.

He kicked a stray stone as he contemplated—as far as he could surmise, today was the perfect day for that grand transmutation ritual both Kazark and that damn pipsqueak Homunculus were excited about. But that day when he had snuck in to the library, he had unearthed some research papers; Pride wasn't taking any chances this time.

But the transmutation circle felt odd.

He couldn't put a finger to it but he felt something wrong. He had diligently copied it on to a piece of paper and later handed it over to Ling so that he could get it analysed in that alkahestry lab of his.

That was over a month ago.

 _They should have got some answer by now_.

He wondered what Rei was up to. The last time he met her, she was neck deep in paperwork regarding the illegal immigrant situation in the west. At least she completed the work, not unlike that _other_ git in Central.

 _I will be taking the fall for this, not you. So don't be a hero and return in a coffin—too many people will be crying at your funeral,_ Rei had warned him when she listened to his report.

He felt a soft warmth in his chest as he thought about her; unlike Mustang who had a team to fall back on, she seemed to work alone. That is, apart from Travis. Though that Homunculus could be annoying at times, he had her back and would help her if the tide turned.

And if Ed knew his luck, help would be welcome real soon.

He wondered whether she had put two and two together—she had known that Pride would be advancing his move sometime soon, and they had prepared a defensive transmutation circle to combat that situation. He hoped she made it to Central and explained the plan to the others.

He fisted his hands and looked up at the darkening sky.

For better or for worse, the time has come.

This is war.

*/*/

**SOMEWHERE NEAR XING'S BORDER**

Ling and Lan Fan were travelling incognito.

Again.

A rush of deja vu filled Lan Fan's mind as she picked a path over the desert sand, the emperor of Xing jumping merrily behind her.

They were supposed to catch the desert train that ran between Amestris and Xing, the new transport system that was the fruit of endless discussions between the Fuhrer of Amestris and the Emperor of Xing and was given form a year ago. They missed the last train by minutes and had to wait three hours for the next one.

"Your Highness, I suggest we remain in the dunes for a while, at least till the train has entered the station. It is already late, and we would be attracting undue attention. If someone finds out that both the Emperor and the Royal Heiress is missing from the capital, it could become a diplomatic and a political nightmare," Lan Fan said, spying a comfortably large dome some ways off the road.

"And guess what? My lovely sister Ying Fa is quite nearby. And I can sense the presence of a really large nasty piece of _chi_...feels like Pride," Ling said, stopping in mid-pirouette, his joviality giving away to seriousness.

"So Edward was correct after all," Lan Fan said, zoning her Dragon Pulse abilities to the direction Ling pointed.

"Did you seriously doubt him, Lan Fan?" asked Ling, grinning as he stared at that direction. "He can fly off the handle before you can say 'short' but when facts are in the picture, he's the best man you can trust."

He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I wonder what sort of plot Ying Fa is hatching with Pride. Is it my untimely demise or something more serious...Lan Fan, change of plans. We are spying."

"But...but my Lord!" Lan Fan spluttered, racing after him as he broke into a sprint. "It's dangerous!"

"Not as dangerous as the trek we made five years ago! Chill, Lan Fan! It's going to be fun!" Ling yelled as the two of them raced to the point in the moonlit desert.

*/*/

**A SMALL HUT**

**BORDER OF XING**

Ying Fa examined the...the _boy_ before her, her nose crinkling with distaste. She wasn't someone well-trained in the intricacies of the Dragon's Pulse, but she was sure of the fact that every nerve in her body was screaming _danger,_ urging her to put light years worth of distance between herself and him _._

This boy was no child, the fathomless beady black eyes held experience of eons. An involuntary shiver ran up her spine as she looked at the map on the table.

And her temper bristled.

"I was told to help with the finances, in return you would be helping me remove that Yao scum and place me on the throne. I never agreed to slaughter the country!" she snapped, slapping a palm on the map. "How can I rule a country which has no people?"

The boy, Pride, smiled. It looked completely out-of-place on his otherwise cherubic face...a dangerous, _slithery_ smile.

"You didn't disagree either. How were we supposed to know?" he asked calmly, eyes glinting in the firelight.

"I do not agree to this!" she said angrily, getting up to her feet and smoothening down her emerald green-and-gold _cheongsham_. "Nai Lin, Dan Lin, we are leaving."

Her retainers, clad in plain black clothing and black masks, stood up with knives drawn.

"Oh, my lady, seriously you do not _think_ we would be letting you leave so easily," Kazark said easily, his teeth gleaming dangerously.

The last thing Ying Fa remembered was that the shadows looked really menacing that day.

*/*/

**XING DIPLOMATIC RESIDENCY**

**THE NATIONAL CENTRE FOR THE PROMOTION OF CROSSBORDER RELATIONS**

**CENTRAL, AMESTRIS**

"Thanks for bringing me up to speed, Alphonse," May said, biting into a slice of the apple pie Winry brought.

"Ying Fa, huh? That's really a cause of concern. And Ling knew about it all along...as much as I want to punch him, I don't really blame him. Brother can be really persuasive when he wants to," Al sighed, looking at Winry.

The blonde looked sad, though she was trying her best to hide it. Al placed his plate on the table and gave her a one-armed squeeze.

"Hey Winry, I know this bothers you, but trust me when I say this...Brother loves you too much to see you cry at his expense," he said softly as May nodded from the chair opposite him to emphasize his point.

"I know that Al," she said, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms. "It's just...I am not a child scared of the dark anymore. I know the world's not some Wonderland or something ripped from a kid's fairytale book...I just want him to trust me...I love him and I want to be by his side, not stay in his shadow like some damsel in distress!"

"You are no damsel in distress, Winry," said May softly, reaching out to take her hand and squeeze it between both of her own. "And if I know my dimwit of a half-brother and that Elric and add up the fact of the message you snooped on, I dare say some action is taking place somewhere."

As if on cue, a series of knocks hammered the door.

"Come in!" May called.

A man clad in the Xingese retainer uniform came running in, gasping for breath. Before anyone could ask him anything, he held out a piece of paper.

"Received...urgent...transmission...His Highness..." he gasped.

May snatched the paper, her eyes going round and wide as she read its contents. Her grip went slack and the paper fluttered to the floor, prompting Al to pick it up.

It was Morse. And the only person cracked enough to use the contraption apart from his brother was Ling.

And he didn't require a Morse translating dictionary to make out what was written.

_YING-FA-DEAD-RUINS-OF-XERXES_

"Central Command... _now!_ " he said, standing up, apple pie forgotten.

*/*/

**THE CONTAINMENT CELL**

**RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

After Riza managed to put the gloves on his hands, it was a matter of mere minutes before they were free of their bounds.

Roy examined his gloves. His usual fire circle was etched in the place, but what caught his attention was the two circles that were etched in the palms. From the looks of it, the circles by themselves weren't complete, but if he clapped...

He experimentally held his palms together.

A _zing_ that marked a transmutation ran through his body, looking for a release. He quickly pulled apart his hands, ending the reaction.

The design looked as if drawn by using non-washable ink—what was Edward thinking?

He examined the circle critically.

"What is it, Roy?" Riza asked finally. He looked up to see the faces of his subordinates looking up expectantly towards him.

He held up his palms for the others to see.

"Fullmetal put up this design on my palms, for god knows why," he said, turning them to examine again.

Riza frowned as she looked at the intricate design.

"They look incomplete," she said finally.

"I know, they activate when I clap," he said and was about to demonstrate when she caught his wrist in mid-action.

"Are you crazy? What if your hands blow off or something?" she said heatedly, pulling his hand away.

"I tested them already," Roy huffed before eyeing her riled face in a surprised manner. "What? Do you think Fullmetal put up this up to kill me?"

"He has tried once," Riza reminded him, looking troubled. Havoc and Ross came up to them while Brosch was keeping watch from the door.

"He might be pissed as hell, but he won't kill anyone if he can help it," said Roy confidently. "I know him, and he can say whatever he wants to, but I am not going to believe him."

As he placed his palms side-by-side, a small spark of understanding flared in his mind.

The symbols, he had seen them. A long time ago when he had once helped Edward in his research when the blond had reluctantly asked him about fire alchemy. Back when the Elrics were still researching the Philosopher's Stone.

This transmutation circle...

He could bet a lifetime of coffee that this was the Reverse Human Transmutation Circle.


	20. Beyond the Walls

**ONE MONTH AGO**

* * *

**ALSTENHEIM'S CABIN**

**WESTERN COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

Rei examined the circle, trying to figure out whether there were any flaws which she had possibly overlooked. The sigils, the symbols, lines—to her tired eye, they seemed perfect.

But she still refrained from activating it, no telling what a misplaced sigil could do.

She had bullied Ed to take a nap. The poor guy had been slaving over it for the past one week, sleeping for hours she could count on one finger. It was sheer exhaustion that made him finally drop on her visitor's couch and Travis was sure to take pictures of his drooling mouth before grudgingly carrying him to the resting rooms upstairs.

It was a miracle that the deception was successful till now. Everytime the blond alchemist left for Creta, she couldn't help but feel tensed until she received some communication from him. Travis suggested she stop worrying—he was the Fullmetal Alchemist after all.

 _An alchemist who cannot perform alchemy_ , she had pointed out.

 _He's an intelligent kid, he knows which way's up,_ Travis had countered, his chestnut eyes looking confident. Even though he often argued with Ed, she knew he had something of a soft spot for him.

 _Just like Roy_.

Roy had stopped calling her—maybe Breda's transfer gave him a hint. The Brigadier could be egotistic at times, but he was a good man. He had everyone's good interests at heart. Sometimes, she was often tempted to tell him everything, but her rationality stopped her.

The less people knew, the better.

And if Ed was correct, Roy was bang in the middle of the enemy's nest. Giving him any information would be like painting a bull's eye on his back.

Unless they found out the mole, they had to be secretive.

She looked at the transmutation circle again.

Human transmutation as a subject was a very complex one since it combined alchemy with biology and anatomy. Alchemical reactions involving live tissues were often unpredictable since the fluctuating energy of life frequently threw the rather delicate energy balance needed by the reaction into complete chaos. And the rebound was mostly severe.

Balance was the key, but too many gates could also prevent the natural flow.

She rubbed her temples as a headache threatened to bloom.

The circle looked intricate, to the untrained eye it could almost look beautiful. But for Rei, the sense of beauty was buried deep under the danger it could become if something went wrong.

She cataloged all the elements again.

_Nothing can go wrong now._

_*/*/_

* * *

**PRESENT DAY**

* * *

**MUSTANG'S CABIN**

**CENTRAL COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

Al looked around the room. Winry, May, Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong and Second Lieutenant Fuery sat on the various seating arrangements in the outer office, all looking expectantly at him.

"What?" he asked uncomfortably.

"What should we do now?" May said quickly. Armstrong nodded in agreement.

"But I'm a civilian, I can't give orders to a Princess-in-waiting and military officers!" he exclaimed, looking at Winry for support.

The blonde shook her head.

"But you are the only one who seems to have the most information," she said slowly, enunciating every word with equal emphasis. "Besides, face it. Brigadier General Mustang and Ed are not here and if Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong is ready to discuss with you, what's the harm? But be quick, a minute lost here might become a minute that decides life or death for them."

"That is indeed a very correct observation, Miss Rockbell," Armstrong boomed.

"Tell us what you think, Al. We have to chart out a plan," Fuery said in his gentle voice, removing his headphones for a second.

"What about Major Catalina? You said she was on her way here?" Al asked.

Fuery nodded. "She said so...and if I'm correct, she's going to be here any second now."

As if on cue, the door of the outer office opened, admitting three newcomers. Al recognized Major Rebecca Catalina immediately by her dark curly hair but the ones clad in civilian clothes caught his attention.

One of them removed her hat, revealing startling amber eyes so similar to theirs.

"Major General Alstenheim!" he gasped.

"Sshh! I'm in disguise, Alphonse Elric!" she hissed. "Travis, shut the damn door!"

The chestnut-haired man behind her closed the door, grumbling away unintelligibly. After the door was truly locked and bolted, he saw her give a huge sigh.

"I know Roy's kidnapped...and Ed's supposedly missing," she began but Al was sure she gave him a slightly uncomfortable look before continuing. "Before I begin, I need to apologise. Winry Rockbell, Alphonse Elric. I do not regret what I've done, but regardless it was dangerous. Ed could very well die and I would be the one responsible."

Al's heart jumped to his mouth as a strange sense of foreboding settled in his abdomen.

"Ed was acting as a double agent, all these three years. And if I'm correct, he's one holding Roy hostage."

*/*/

**THE RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

Ed swallowed the last bit of the soup, his eyes still troubled.

Pride and his cronies had not returned yet. Nor had he seen Mustang.

 _Maybe that git learnt how to hide_ , he mused as he washed his bowl and placed it on the table.

He saw the scraggly, burly man who was assigned to be Hawkeye's guard. The chimera Travis had told him about.

" _Karl Troyard is a wolf chimera and an old friend of mine. Though he doesn't like Kazark much, he stays with coz Kazark's the only guy who wants him alive. Otherwise the Cretans would have killed him or turned him into a lab rat. Go to him, tell him I sent you. I promise he'll help."_

Travis was right; Karl might not talk much but his superior sense of smell helped him out when he snuck around the camp for information. And though he didn't look it, he was quite knowledgeable about alchemy in general and human transmutation in particular.

_He's a chimera after all._

After checking whether the coast is clear, Ed walked up to him.

"Status?" he muttered from the corner of his mouth as pretended to examine the ruin behind him in the light of the lantern he held in his right hand.

"Mustang, company escape," Karl replied before shuffling away.

A tiny flare of hope warmed his insides; maybe not everything was bleak.

He felt Pride before he saw him—the clammy coldness that spread like plague through wherever the Homunculus walked.

"Is your work done, Pride?" he asked flatly, schooling his face to exhibit indifference.

"Ah yes, it went wonderfully," Pride answered, looking pleased with himself.

 _Like the cat who ate the canary,_ Ed thought darkly. He wondered who died to put that smug smile on Selim Bradley look-alike's face.

He saw Kazark hanging at the fringes of the small platoon—unlike Pride, his face looked troubled.

Pride traced his gaze, and frowned when he saw the terrorist faction's leader.

"Do you still think someone could evade _my_ tracking skill and follow us?" he asked sweetly, but Ed could hear viciousness drip like syrup from his voice.

Kazark jumped uncomfortably. "I was just wondering..."

" _I am_ wondering whether you possess the good, survival instinct of shutting up," Pride snapped, looking the very picture of childish anger. But his dark eyes danced dangerously.

Kazark swallowed before looking away, focussing instead on his fingertips.

Ed watched his interplay interestedly, wondering what happened. Before he could reason out an answer, he felt a microscopic brush of _chi_ before it disappeared.

A really familiar _chi_.

_Ling?_

_*/*/_

**EASTBOUND TRAIN'S RESERVED CABIN**

"We go all out?" Al asked again.

Rei nodded. "Alex, you and I are full-fledged State Alchemists, Major Catalina is an experienced sniper. May Chang is an accomplished alkahestrist who needs no introduction. More than enough to take on a motley group of terrorists."

"Can't I come along too?" Winry asked.

Rei knew conviction when she saw one, and Winry's cornflower blue eyes were overflowing with it. She knew the Rockbell girl was tough, but she was a civilian. Already she felt guilty on involving Al, but Winry too? And she had a nagging feeling that she might require the mechanic's services if Ed had busted his leg.

"I can keep her safe," said Travis abruptly. All faces swivelled to face him, making him look a little uncomfortable.

"I was under the distinct impression that you wanted to sit out the fight," she said, her eyes narrowing to slits.

"Yeah, I wanted too," he said slowly. "But...can't I say I changed my mind?"

Rei gave him a look.

She had promised Travis that she wouldn't tell the others about him being a Homunculus. But, in a fight...

Travis gave her a determined grin.

She sighed. If he wanted to throw himself to the wolves, who was she to stop him? Besides, she knew her mind would rest easy knowing that Travis was protecting Winry.

That guy might be a first-class jerk but he had an odd sense of duty.

She nodded in agreement.

"Alright. Do what you deem fit," she said. "But remember, no dying."

"Aye, sir!" Winry and Travis chorused in unison.

According to Catalina, she had seen the suspect group depart for the ruins of Xerxes. And that collaborated with what Ling had messaged them.

She pulled out a map from her bag and spread it out on the table between the two benches after making sure that the compartment door was shut and locked.

"It's already nearing midnight. We will read the border town within two hours," she said, pointing to a small dot on the line showing Amestris' eastern border. "I have called up in advance and got my contact to prepare a few camels for our journey."

"Second Lieutenant Fuery will be staying at one of my safe houses; it is spruced up with all the equipment you will need. I want you to keep all ears open on the radio traffic from Creta and Central. Something tells me that we are up for a big showdown tonight," she continued, looking briefly at the bespectacled soldier.

"Alright, Major General," Fuery saluted.

"Travis, Winry's safety is your biggest priority. If the situation calls for you to choose between Winry and _anyone else_ , the answer is Winry. Am I clear?" she said.

Winry was about to protest but that hard amber gleam held more than just power—it burned with authority and conviction.

She suddenly realized how so young a person rose up the ranks so quickly.

"You got it, Rei. You just worry about getting that pipsqueak and Mustang out. I don't like Pride," Travis muttered, staring hard at the point marked "Ruins of Xerxes".

"Neither do we," Al added darkly, checking his watch. "So, Major General...what's the plan? Direct assault or do we snoop around a bit?"

"I don't think we would get an opportunity of snooping around," May said quietly. "It's your brother, that Flame alchemist and quite possibly my half-brother there. Three most dangerous people in this world. I dare say we should count ourselves lucky if we get to sample the action."

Rei couldn't help but smile at her statement. "I agree completely, Miss Chang. But even then, it doesn't harm to go prepared. And as Travis had earlier unearthed, it is quite possible that the Home Secretary of Amestris himself is involved..."

"That guy's the Home Secretary?" Travis squeaked, almost falling off his bunk. "I thought he was some higher up in the Fuhrer's admin staff!"

Rei rolled her eyes and stared at the ceiling.

"Gosh, Travis! You seriously didn't know?" Rei exclaimed. "Have you been living under a rock for all these years, for crying out loud? I was under the impression that you didn't take his name out loud because of possible eavesdropping!"

"Wait wait wait...the bloody Home Sec's involved?!" Catalina croaked. "That wispy man with a sky-high attitude? Sir Theophilius Brandish? The one chummy with Grumman? _Him?"_

Rei nodded heavily. "Some days ago, Travis was visiting Table City when he ran across Kazark's cronies meeting Brandish. He managed to squeeze out some transcripts from the meeting, enough to realize the mole in our side."

"This is not just any mole," Al whistled lowly. "It's cancer!"

"That was the reason I couldn't try and inform anyone—I didn't have communication channels safe enough. And rooms could always be bugged," Rei explained, looking out through the window only to come face-to-face with her distorted reflection.

"Now you know," she continued, turning back to face the group. "Guess it's just like five years ago, huh?"

Al leant back, a small smile on his lips. "Almost, just that I'm not in a suit of armor."

"But the conclusion will remain identical," Alex boomed, making everyone jump. "We will, again, emerge victorious."

*/*/

**RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

Ling felt Ed before he saw him.

Though the moon shone traitorously bright, he and Lan Fan managed to keep to the shadows. Not that it made much sense when their enemy owned it.

But he was doing a good job keeping their presence hidden.

 _Nice trick, May. Glad I learnt it,_ he thought as he tried to inch closer.

He saw Ed jump slightly for a second and shoot a puzzled look at his present location. Then a small smile appeared on his face and he studiously avoided to look again. Apparently, his gamble of letting his _chi_ run rampant for a moment worked.

"My Lord," Lan Fan whispered. "What should we do now?"

"Stick to one, will you? Your Highness or My Lord...better, just call me Ling, like when we were kids," Ling teased.

Lan Fan looked mortified, and put on her mask to hide the monochrome blush on her cheeks.

Ling sat down leaning against a sturdy looking rock and stretched his limbs. "I sense Pride, Kazark, a chimera and a bunch of wishy-washy idiots apart from Ed, Mustang, Hawkeye and three others. Mustang is wandering about the ruins—looks like he's lost. And Ed seems safe at the moment, at least he has an idea what he's up to. I guess we team up with Mustang and then take the next step."

"But do what, My Lord?" Lan Fan asked, her eyes fixed on distant bonfire. "If it is a transmutation circle as deduced by Dr. Chang, then we cannot do anything about it. For all that may happen, I cannot afford to let you die here, My Lord. You are the Emperor of Xing, you have a responsibility to people!"

Ling shook his head, smiling at her over-protectiveness. "I sometimes doubt as to why you are always so eager to protect me...I know a bodyguard's duty is just that but I'm not blind. I know...and I'm honored about what you feel for me. And the country."

"What are you talking about..." Lan Fan stuttered, though her eyes remained fixed.

Ling looked at her, an incomprehensible look in his eyes before continuing. "Forget it...I'm just babbling. I know, Xing is my responsibility. But if I don't do anything now, there will remain nothing there to take responsibility of. Rei knows and I'm sure she has let the right people know. I hope...no I believe. The cavalry is coming."

Ling fisted his fingers and took in a deep breath before exhaling loudly.

"Let's go and find Mustang."

*/*/

**THE RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

"Sir, admit it. You are lost," said Riza finally, making Roy come to an unhappy halt.

"Damn it! I never find that idiot! Seriously, he's so tiny I bet he would have fitted in one of these cracks," Roy groaned, turning around. They had been moving in circles for over two hours now and though he would die than admit, he was sure it was the fourth time he was seeing that particular block.

He ran his gloved fingers through his hair. Havoc looked jumpy as Riza had mildly threatened to shoot him if he even got his pinky finger within ten inches of a cigarette. Ross and Brosch had their firearms ready to shoot at a moment's notice, though the latter looked he would have preferred to be anywhere but here.

"I don't think the Boss would have liked that," Havoc said, keeping a wary eye on Riza and her gun. It was strange why the jailer hadn't thrown away their weapons—keeping them piled outside the door? Was he _helping_ them escape?

Roy scratched his chin as he stared up at the sky. Suddenly he saw two dots coming towards him, enlarging by the second. He stepped aside just in time to prevent himself getting squashed.

"Ling?" Roy said incredulously, helping the Xingese Emperor to his feet.

"Crashed into the party, eh? Always wanted to do that," Ling grinned, dusting away the dirt from his clothes.

"Holy crap, you are the king of Xing right?" Havoc spluttered. Riza knocked him on his head with the butt of her gun.

"Stop stating the obvious, Havoc. And keep your voice _down_...this part seems empty but there's only so much time we have before someone _else_ thinks of crashing the party too," she said in a low voice, eliciting a hasty nod from him.

"What are you doing here, Ling?" asked Roy, flabbergasted. From the corner of his eye, he saw that bodyguard girl of his take up position to keep watch.

"Five minutes, no interruptions. I'll explain everything."

*/*/


	21. The Day the Sun Disappeared

**(SOMEWHERE)**

**THE RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

Roy's left foot beat out a tattoo on the cracked stones as his right eyebrow twitched. His hands, tightly crossed across his chest, seemed suddenly restless.

He, Brigadier General Roy Mustang, Hero of Ishval, the Flame Alchemist...had been taken for a ride. A bloody long ride.

He itched to snap and set something on fire.

Or clap and squash that blond pipsqueak flat.

"Ed...Rei...souls...mole...human transmutation..." he muttered after Ling finished his narrative.

"Fullmetal _knew_ about what was happening to him...and he told _Rei_ of all people? That idiot! And what's with Rei keeping her lips sealed? And that damn Travis defecting to her side—I thought he was _my_ informer, not hers!" Roy hissed angrily, making Havoc and Brosch take a couple of steps back.

Ling gave him a sheepish grin, his hands deep into his pockets.

"So this Aruo guy, is he reliable?" Roy asked, lapsing to seriousness.

Ling nodded. "He's the best we have."

Roy looked at the transmutation circle interestedly. According to Ling, Rei and Ed had been researching it the past one year and finally designed it a month back. He wondered why Ed gave him this.

"How do I fit in the picture?" he wondered out loud.

Ling gave him an odd look. "Haven't you figured it out yet? You are Ed's fail-safe mechanism. Should he fail, he has entrusted you to ensure that you can close the portal."

"Why me?" Roy asked again.

Ling smiled slowly. "Ed thinks that he could use the portal to get his alchemy back...dunno the details but Aruo seemed convinced. That's partly the reason he is egging Pride along. Bringing you here was a double bluff—Pride considers you to be a sacrifice while Ed is confident you can bust your butt outta here if needed."

Roy wondered whether he should be glad at the confidence Ed had on him or be miffed.

"So," Ling continued. "The fact is, if something goes wrong, Ed wouldn't be able to stop the catastrophe coz he doesn't have his alchemy. Rei was supposed to cover him but she isn't here yet. So, he brought you in to increase his chances. Pure mathematics."

Now, Roy was definitely miffed. What was he, a substitute?

"But alchemy's all about Equivalent Exchange, right? What is he giving up?" Roy asked thoughtfully.

"Ask Ed, not me," Ling shrugged. "But for starters, we need to let him know that Pride intends to _become_ the Gate and hence _control_ that Equivalency thing—and you don't need me to tell you that it would be an extremely bad idea to let that kid run amok."

"That _kid_ is over three centuries old," Roy muttered.

"Whatever, he sure behaves like one," Ling said nonchalantly. "Ed is still under the impression that Pride is just replicating that Father guy's plan in Creta. We gotta let him know before it's too late."

Roy nodded. "Okay...so for now, our first priority is to locate Fullmetal. Come on people, let's move!"

"And," Ling interjected weakly, raising his hand. "Do you have some food? I'm hungry."

*/*/

**ZACHBELL**

**AMESTRIS BORDER**

The minuscule station was deserted.

Still clad in her civilian clothes, Rei knew she looked miles away from the military rank she commanded but that was what she needed right now. After a casting a quick eye around to check for any suspicious characters, she motioned the others to follow them.

She had got Fuery, Armstrong and Catalina drape some nondescript coats to cover their military blues—she wanted Central to remain in the dark as long as possible. Though, as she checked her watch, that darkness would soon diminish.

Major General Olivier Mira Armstrong lacked one thing. And that was the ability to be discreet.

But that was the quality that made her so formidable—and if anything goes wrong, she would be able to take the matters in her own hands. And the Briggs soldiers were tough people, not to mention insanely loyal to their commander. If push comes to shove, they wouldn't hesitate to commandeer the Central Command if ordered by her.

And that's what Rei had in mind.

Before leaving Central, she had Sheska extricate the Home Secretary's timetable from her friend who worked in the Fuhrer's office. And officially, he was supposed to be attending the Fuhrer Meets tomorrow...today.

She had asked Lieutenant Heymans Breda and Major Alicia Tyle to come and keep an eye on the top brass. And she was thankful of the fact that they didn't ask any questions.

 _Being under Roy's command for so long must have trained Breda to follow orders without questions,_ she thought as she walked to an innocent-looking, somewhat dilapidated, two-storied house.

Al and Winry were close behind her heels along with Fuery and May while Travis and Alex kept a lookout. Rei rapped the door sharply before taking a step back.

After a minute of rattling of various chains and locks, the door opened a fraction. She could make out a couple of eyes taking in the visitors before the door opened wide.

"Inside, everyone!" she whispered, entering quickly.

After the door was shut and bolted, the lights were switched on. The sudden brightness after an hour of walking in the gloom blinded her for a moment as she reflexively shielded her eyes. On blinking a couple of times, she could make out her location. The windows were all blackened, the inside propped sparsely with a threadbare carpet, a moth-eaten sofa, couple of rickety chairs and some drooping potted plants. The person who opened the door stood grinning in the hallway.

"Major Miles!" Al exclaimed, pleasantly surprised.

"Nice to see you out of the armour, Alphonse. And I guess I should be wishing a good morning to you, Major General Alstenheim, Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong. Major General Armstrong sends her wishes," said Miles, an easy smile on his face.

"Olivier brought you up to speed with the situation, I presume?" Rei asked, looking around.

"Yes, she did. I have set up the communications room upstairs, just the way you have instructed. And camels are awaiting your arrival at the eastern border of the town. The men accompanying you go a long way back with the Briggs Command and are very loyal," he said, gesturing up the stairs.

"It's nice to see you, Major Miles. You gave up your glasses?" asked Winry.

"And it's good to see you well, Miss Rockbell. And to answer your question; under the current Fuhrer, Ishvallans are no longer prosecuted for being what they are, and red eyes are not discriminated against anymore. So, the need to hide my heritage has ceased," he answered, turning to the blonde mechanic. "Our mechanic at Briggs misses you, maybe you could drop by sometime? Unlike winters, summers are good at there."

"I'll try. Though I had spent a short time up North, I liked it."

"Okay, enough chit-chatting, people," Rei barked. "Eat up, stock up. We are leaving within fifteen minutes. Fuery, go upstairs with Miles and do what you do best. Miles, I know you are not under my jurisdiction but its a request as a friend—Get the local police prepped up. If all goes well, we would need to make arrests before Creta gets a wind of what's happening. This could be the big break we wanted. And, if possible, get hold of a reporter from the Central Times. I need to make our version of the deception public before the other side manages to wail a sob story. Call up Sheska at Western Command if you need some contacts. But the first priority should be your own bloody life...and that applies to everyone here."

She looked around at the assembled people.

"I know we are jumping from the frying pan into the fire but whatever shit gets thrown, there's only _one_ absolute order you have. _Do not die_. No need to be a hero. Am I understood?"

Al and Miles grinned. Winry smiled. Catalina smirked. Fuery grimaced. Alex expectedly sobbed. May whooped.

"That sounds more like it," said Travis, his eyes glinting. "Let's go and kick some Homunculus butt!"

*/*/

**THE SQUARE**

**THE RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

"Bring the hostages here," said Pride.

Ed jumped, realising he had fallen to some sort of a waking doze. He gave a fleeting look towards Karl—his broad face looked impassive.

Kazark climbed to his feet, stretching his bulky arms to his fullest as he towered a good one-and-a-half feet over the top of his cowlick. Ed hated him simply because he was so tall—he along with all the Cretans in their motley assembly. He knew they would dwarf even Alex.

_Bloody monsters._

"I'll go and pay a social call then,"said Kazark, an inhuman gleam in his deep set beady eyes. "I'd love to have a _private_ chat with Miss Hawkeye."

 _Private...the bloke doesn't know who's he talking about,_ Ed thought savagely as he strolled up to him. The game was up now and he hoped to the gods he never believed in—that Ling and Mustang had somehow made contact.

_Might as well kick some butt in style._

"Let's go," he grunted to Kazark.

"All right-o, young man. Let's see how tough are those Amestrian dogs."

The two of them walked towards the containment cell in silence. Ed surreptitiously checked his watch.

Dawn would be breaking soon. Which meant Pride should be making his move any time now.

He saw that the firearms he had "confiscated" from Mustang's group and thoughtfully placed them at the door were missing. Apparently, they had escaped.

Mustang hadn't lost his touch after all, it seems.

He braced himself for the outcome as Kazark opened the door.

He saw him freeze and then slowly turn towards him. Step menacingly up to him, lift him by his collar.

"What is the _meaning_ of this?" he hissed, shaking him.

Ed grinned, enjoying the various shades of rage playing on the terrorist's face.

"Looks like they have escaped, Kazark," he said nonchalantly as his eyes danced in delight.

"I can _see_ that, Elric. Pride was right...I shouldn't have trusted you!"

"Too late," Ed smirked. "You already did, and you're done for."

The bellow that followed the statement was perhaps as loud as Breda's shouts when chased by Black Hayate in Central.

Ed brought down his elbow on the arm holding him hostage and kicked his shins solidly with his automail foot. Kazark rolled a good few feet away, coming to rest against a boulder.

"You...you were playing us, weren't you?" Kazark hissed, wiping the blood from his split lip as he got back up on his feet. His broad face was scrunched up in rage as he dashed towards Ed, fists raised.

Ed might have lost his alchemy, but he was still a damn good fighter with his fists.

He nimbly side-stepped the burly Cretan and using his momentum, thrashed him to a fallen pillar.

To say that Kazark was dazed would have been an understatement.

"For someone so tiny, you fight crazy," he wheezed.

Ed's eyebrow twitched.

"Man, I've had it! WHO ON THIS BLOODY IMBECILE PLANET ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL THAT HE COULD BE CRUSHED UNDERNEATH BY AN ANT'S PINKY FINGER?!"

*/*/

**(SOMEWHERE)**

**THE RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

Roy was sure he could recognize an Ed-worthy rant even in coma.

And he wasn't wrong.

"I'll bet my entire kitchen that's Ed kicking someone's sorry butt to glory," Ling said pleasantly, leading the way.

"But is that not counterproductive? The enemy would know the location and the fact that Ed betrayed them," said Lan Fan worryingly.

"Which means his cover's blown," Riza deduced, unlocking the catch in her rifle and holding it in position as they walked. "We'd better be careful now...night is when Pride is the most powerful."

"Why did you guys drag _me_ into this?" Brosch moaned, holding onto his gun like dear life.

"Ah Brosch! Stop acting like a ninny and grow some balls for a change," Ross muttered, her eyes taking in the surroundings quickly and carefully. "We are shouldering the fate of the world, so act the part!"

"When did I say my shoulders were that strong?" he wailed.

Roy looked at the palms, transfixed by the incredible detail of the circles.

"Is that the Reverse Human Transmutation Circle?" Ling asked, peering into his hands.

Roy nodded.

"Hmm...thought so. But Ed prepared it keeping in mind the fact that it was only Amestris. If Pride's going grand, wouldn't you need a bigger circle or something?" Ling asked.

Roy looked at the circles again, brow creasing in thought.

Ling sort of had a point there.

"I'm not that much of an expert in the field of human transmutation as Fullmetal but in a basic alchemical sense, size of circle doesn't matter much. The amount of energy you channel though the circle is what determines the outcome. For example, the fire alchemy circles on my gloves can create a spark or burn down a house—depends upon the amount of energy I feed it and the way the transmutation is carried out. Bigger circles are generally preferred in case of delicate transmutations because it helps alchemists to detect if some mistake has been committed in the inscriptions" Roy explained.

"Whoa! That's a lot...but that means you can still get this circle to work," said Ling, slightly relieved.

"I guess so."

"Hmm...then lets find Ed and get this show done with."

*/*/

**THE GREAT DESERT**

"How much further?" Travis groaned, giving his camel a look of distaste. "My butt's sore."

"I can see the ruins...an hour at the most, it seems," said Rei, squinting at the horizon.

"I've always wanted to visit the ruins of Xerxes...pity I have to visit this way," May sighed.

"Don't worry May. Once this drama's all over, we'll come here again," Al said, smiling.

May was glad that the night hid her blush. "Thanks, Alphonse."

"Brother always wanted to show me the wall where he found the ancient notes of human transmutation," Al continued, not noticing May's smile give way to an open mouth. "And Winry too wanted to visit it, right Win?"

May looked murderously at the blonde riding on the camel to her left.

"Umm Al? Aren't you kind of missing the point here?" Winry said hesitatingly.

Al looked surprised. "But you always said..."

"It is obvious that Miss Chang seeks to spend some time with you, young Alphonse," Alex boomed, urging the poor, almost-squashed camel of his come in line with the younger Elric.

Winry slapped a palm to her forehead while Al and May blushed madly.

"Way to go, Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong," she muttered.

"Pure love and loyalty are the traits that have been passed down the Armstrong line for generations!" Alex said proudly.

Al swore that the pink sparkles might have increased in number.

"Hey you guys! Pipe down a little! We are close," Rei called from the front. Al didn't need to see her smirk to know that she had heard everything. That woman's ears were too sharp at times.

*/*/

Thankfully, a helpful oasis nearby seemed to be a good place to tether their camels. Rei spied another posse of camels sitting in a disgruntled manner near a clump of grass.

_Roy's group, I should guess._

She lead her camel towards them, thinking maybe bonding over with new members might help them pass the time and perhaps not encourage them to chew through the rope and run away. Miles had sworn the toughness of the ropes to rival that of the Brigg's commander but she had her doubts. After the drama gets over, she wasn't looking forward to a blind trek across the treacherous desert.

The horizon was lighting up—dawn was approaching.

_Let's get this over and done with so that I can dig into some Eastern food for dinner._

The guides Miles had them accompanied with bowed and took their leave after wishing them good luck.

" _Pust zvezdy svetyat nad vami navsegda,_ " said one of them, kissing the forefinger and index finger of his right hand and raising it to the slowly brightening sky.

Rei looked puzzled but to her surprise, Travis mirrored his move.

" _Mozhet vashe puteshestviye byt' korotkim i bezopasnym,"_ he said in the same solemn voice before the two guides rode away in the direction they came.

"What was that?" Rei asked.

"That's standard Drachman way of wishing one luck," Travis said, his eyes hard and steely.

"When did _you_ hop in to Drachma?" Rei asked.

"Major General Alstenheim! I think we should hurry," May said, interrupting their conversation.

"Right...let's go, Rei. Ed's waiting for us," said Travis.

Rei got a distinct feeling that he was hiding something.

*/*/

**THE RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

Ed was panting, covered in a thin sheen of feverish sweat.

_Not a good time..._

After trotting about with his _little problem_ for over five years, Ed knew the signs just the way he could predict when Al was bound to explode with fraternal worry.

_Stay put, damn body!_

He raised up his fists in a protective stance, ignoring the wobble in his automail leg. Focussing his body weight on that metal appendage had been a bad idea after all, though it resulted in him rearranging Kazark's facial geography.

Ed smirked. He might miss having that blade protrude from his automail arm at will, but the satisfaction of feeling a punch hit its mark was worth it. Also, his movements had become more quicker after he regained his flesh arm—the heavy metal did make him clumsy at times.

"You're dead either way—you can't punch Pride," Kazark said gleefully, the bloodstained teeth giving him the appearance of a vampire crossed with a really ugly lion.

"Like I care," Ed shrugged, squatting next to a boulder as he rotated his shoulder to ease it up. "I came here for a reason...and unfortunately for you, I _do_ have back-up. _Alchemists,_ you know. People who can punch _and_ transmute. So stop that clichéd villain speech, I'm sick of it."

"Alchemists? Don't make me laugh. Pride's a bloody Homunculus, a one-penny alchemist can't beat him!" Kazark snorted, spitting out a wad of blood onto the stone tile.

Ed grinned.

"Does Major General Rei Alstenheim ring any bells for you?" he asked, a dangerous smile playing on his lips.

*/*/

**THE RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

"Does Major General Rei Alstenheim ring any bells for you?"

_Ed?_

Roy almost dashed up front, held back only because Ling had the foresight to hold on to that ridiculous cape-like thing of the military trousers.

"Hold it, Brigadier...that's Kazark. And I sense Pride to be quite near. And I dare say he has picked us up already," Ling muttered.

Havoc and Riza held the rifles up steadily, ready to shoot. Ross and Brosch kept up the rear-guard, latter albeit grudgingly. Lan Fan was nowhere to be seen though Roy suspected that the bodyguard was keeping watch on their party, hidden from sight.

"So, our cover's blown too, right?" Roy said, pulling his gloves straighter.

"Sky high," Ling nodded, drawing out his small sword slung across his back.

Roy looked at the circles once again.

"I guess we should wait for Rei before you use that circle," Ling added. "I don't think you'd know the details about activating it now...since the scenario has changed a little."

_This guy's more shrewd than he lets people to believe._

Roy nodded.

"Sir? I could have sworn the horizon was lighting up a couple of moments back," Riza said, breaking into his thoughts.

Roy cast a look where Riza's gaze was fixed before he did a double take.

He had seen the dawn breaking too. He checked his pocket watch.

Yep. Time for the sun to rise and shine.

But how in the name of the Gate did dusk fall before the sun rose?

"The sun...it _disappeared?_ " Roy said out loud, shock colouring his voice.

**THE RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

Rei ran her fingers lightly over the pouch at her waist, the trustworthy thing that held her cards.

It had been a long time since she had entered a battlefield—since Ishval.

A light shudder made goosebumps pop up her arms. She began doubting the idea of bringing Winry...what if the battle grew into a bloodbath?

Ed would never forgive her for this.

But the only one who could mend Ed's automail was Winry.

_What a conundrum._

The boulders, cracked pillars, beams, walls lay about like a child's abandoned sandcastle project. As if waiting for the waves to wash them off.

She didn't need to look behind to know that the others had their eyes peeled. As far the information Ed provided, Pride was the only serious threat here. The others were skilled fighters—but in front of alchemists who had seen hell and lived to tell the tale, they were minor inconsequential blips.

She just hoped Travis would be equal to them; no doubt they would discover Winry to be a weak link once they entered a full-out battle.

"We are close, I can sense Brother and the Brigadier, not to mention Pride," Al whispered.

"And Ling and Lan Fan too," May added.

It sure helped having alkahestrists on the team, at least no more walking into ambushes.

_Maybe I could suggest Dragon Pulse training as a compulsory subject for alchemists-in-training in the next General Body Meeting._

Though the structures had long departed from their original forms, they had fallen to form a ridiculous maze which even Al and May had a hard time navigating.

As she moved forward to make a turn, Al yanked her back.

She looked at the younger Elric in surprise.

"Something's wrong. I can't get a read anymore," he muttered, massaging his temples.

"Oh God! _Look at the sun!_ " May gasped, pointing to the horizon.

Rei slowly turned to look at where May was pointing.

The horizon, which had been lighting up a few minutes back, was now pitch black. And a giant ring of fire was the only source of illumination in the sky.

_Just like the sun during an eclipse._

The only fact being, no eclipse was scheduled for at least five months.

"The sun...it has disappeared!" Catalina said, clapping her hands to her mouth in horror.


	22. Laws of Alchemy

**MUSTANG'S CABIN**

**CENTRAL COMMAND**

**CENTRAL, AMESTRIS**

"Boss's cabin without the boss is sure gloomy, hunh?" Breda yawned, stretching on his old seat which now belonged to Havoc, if the nameplate was in its correct place.

"Apparently, Brigadier General Mustang seems to be low on the dramatics," Major Alicia Tyle remarked, taking in the cool blue walls devoid of adornments apart from a few framed photographs and book cases. She was short and slightly plump with shoulder-length blonde hair and bright green eyes in a roundish face. Though she looked as "cute" as a kitten doing its kitty eyes, Breda knew that the woman could flip faster than a bipolar person.

 _Hell, if I hadn't seen her psychological profile, I would've thought she was bipolar,_ he mused as he looked out of the window.

The dawn was about to break.

"If the Major General was correct, I should think the Briggs forces must have arrived," said Tyle, examining her fingernails.

Breda shuddered at the thought. Back in Western Command, the soldiers in the barracks often ran bets as to which Major General was more scarier. Alstenheim had the advantage of alchemy while Armstrong held the intimidation factor extraordinaire.

He wondered about what would happen to the enemy if the two women decided to fight side by side for real.

The door to the outer office opened, admitting the Northern Commander. As usual, she was in her military blues complete with the long black coat.

Breda and Tyle jumped up to their feet to salute her.

"Good morning, Major General Armstrong," they chorused.

Olivier Mira Armstrong surveyed the room, recalling the last time she had dropped in.

"At ease, men. I should hope you are aware of what is to happen here?" she said in her usual imperious voice.

"We are, Major General. Our commander has given us explicit instructions to be part of your command until the ordeal is over," said Tyle smoothly after giving Breda a quick glare at the latter's poor attempt to enact a goldfish.

"Has she now?" Armstrong smirked, walking and sitting down on the visitors couch with a sigh.

"The journey from the North is never an easy one...so, when is that pansy of a Home Secretary arriving at the Command Centre?"

Tyle consulted the sheaf of papers on her lap before answering.

"He's scheduled for the Fuhrer Meets opening conference at eight a.m. Which means he should at least arrive here by seven-thirty. That leaves us with two and a half hours to plan."

Armstrong fingered the hilt of her ceremonial sword thoughtfully.

"I have stationed Keynes at the Secretary's house...he would be tailing him everywhere. Miles is currently at Zachbell as he's assisting Alstenheim with the rescue-cum-showdown operation...I miss Buccaneer..." she said, remembering that giant bear-like man with his ridiculous mohawk with a wistful smile.

"I've got the troops stationed at key points all over the Command Centre, I've had a talk with the Fuhrer last night and though he is distressed, he has agreed to cooperate fully," she added.

"So, it's like Promised Day all over again," Breda sighed.

Armstrong grinned. "It is, in a way. But this time, we are not fighting soldiers who have been blinded by false promises and greed—rather this time, I think I'm going to enjoy a _lot_."

"Um...Major General? I think you should look outside," said Tyle hesitatingly.

The dawn, which was on the verge of breaking, was no longer the current scenario.

The Briggs Commander frowned, standing up.

"It has started. Time we begin our work too."

*/*/

**RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

"Well, it was a bit of an anti-climax," Roy said smoothly, tying up Kazark tightly with the ropes he had transmuted from the Cretan's coat.

"Especially when I was having a bit of fun," Ed complained, his hands on his hips as he faced the darkening sky. Roy could see a frown forming on his brow.

"Looks like Pride made his move," he added, looking down to face the others. Riza gave him a smile as she pocketed the gun before dropping on her knees to check the knots on their new prisoner while Havoc and Brosch looked at him hesitatingly.

Edward sighed.

"Come on, you know it as well as I do that it was an act," he said finally.

"But, it was true, right?" asked Roy softly. "You're one hell of a genius in alchemy...and you can't do it. You have the knowledge, the will but suddenly the wiring's gone crazy...and you have that ticking time bomb inside you...it's hard, isn't it?"

The blond gave him a rueful smile. "You're right, Colonel—"

"Brigadier General," Roy corrected him automatically.

"Bastard," Edward countered gleefully.

"But the fact is," he continued, coughing himself to seriousness. "I got Al back. Had I known that giving up this alchemy of mine would solve the problem, I would've done it a long time ago. Sure, I miss it—sometimes, I even end up feeling helpless. But it's like the automail arm I once had—sure, I can't use a blade in fights, but that doesn't I repent having a real, blood-and-flesh arm. I'll live."

Roy didn't look convinced.

"I did it, knowing full well the repercussions...but for me, Al is more important than me being able to pull a rabbit out of a hat," Edward said, his eyes softening slightly.

"Alchemy is not pulling out rabbits from hats!" Roy exclaimed.

"It isn't, but it isn't everything either. I've friends, family...Winry...if I've to do it again to save them, I'd do it a thousand times over," he replied firmly. "Believe it, _Brigadier General_ , it was just an act. A convincing act, yep. But an _act._ "

Roy shrugged.

"All right. I trust you," he sighed finally.

"And Ed, you aren't feeling well, are you?" Ling asked shrewdly.

Edward glowered at him.

"Nothing escapes you, does it?" he remarked, suddenly seeming tired.

"Let's go and get the work done. We can't let Pride become the Gate itself...it would become too much pain in the ass then!" Roy said, pulling on his gloves which he had temporarily removed to do the "Edward-style clap alchemy" to create the ropes.

Edward frowned. "Gate? What are you talking about?"

Kazark spat a wad of spittle a few inches away from Edward's boots, his eyes having a manic gleam.

"Looks like Pride didn't trust you completely after all! You fools have no idea what are you up against!" he cackled.

"Unlike what you creeps believe, not all countries and all rulers can be pitted against so easily. I'm not as stupid as Ying Fa, though rest assured I'd be avenging my half-sister's death—"

"That bitch paid us to kill you!" Kazark interjected.

"Which prevented me dying of boredom. Did you really think that your pathetic attempts would kill a man who had battled a posse of Homunculi in a foreign land, befriended a volatile alchemist with a hair-trigger temper..." Ling steamrolled on, not noticing the prisoner's eyes get rounder and rounder.

"Hey!" Edward protested.

"... _became_ a Homuculus temporarily," continued Ling, completely ignoring him. "And has a body guard who had single-handedly battled more than one of those creeps? Man, how on _earth_ did you pull off a coup like that in Ishval with that stupid pea-sized brain?"

"You all are monsters!" Kazark gasped.

"Not anymore than you," Edward added dryly.

"It was Father's idea all along, by the way. And the way this entire sheep flock followed them, I should have guessed that they lacked something upstairs" Roy said, positioning his fingers in his favourite "snapping" position. "Can I burn him? He's irritating me."

"Relax Mustang, we have a Homunculus to deal with who has a god complex even greater than a certain former Colonel," Edward smirked. "Let's knock him out cold and get the party started!"

*/*/

**THE RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

"It's definitely Brother...and Brigadier-General Mustang...and Ling! Looks like they have teamed up after all!" Al exclaimed in a low voice.

Rei let out the breath she didn't she was holding.

_Thank God!_

It seemed as if for once, Providence was on their side.

She took out the transmutation circle cards, flipping through them as she contemplated as to use which one of them.

"Hey Al, is Jean okay?" Catalina asked hesitatingly.

"He's fine, Major," Al answered, a small smile lighting up the gloom. "Now, we need to worry about how to get rid of Pride, for once and for all."

"Easier said than done, kid," Travis sighed, leaning over Rei's shoulders as he saw the cards she was was flipping through. "He's the oldest one for a reason. And for better or for worse, he's apparently _learning_ from his mistakes."

"But still, Mr. Baker..." May began.

"It's Travis..trust me, you don't want to meet Mr. Baker," he winked at her, making her blush lightly. Al frowned at the little byplay while Rei looked amused, though her brows were still puckered up in worry.

"Travis...but once we destroy the Stone, the Homunculus is dead, right?" she asked.

Al nodded. "You're right. But the issue is, how do we get the stone out? Envy was stupid enough to commit suicide, Sloth wasn't the braninest of the lot and he faced against Teacher, Sig and both the Armstrong siblings..." he shuddered slightly before continuing. "I don't even want to imagine the walloping Sloth received. I almost feel sorry for him."

"Roy burned Lust, and Gluttony was killed by Pride himself. Wrath was killed by Scar," Rei added, counting off her fingers.

"Greed died on the Promised Day," said May softly. "He helped us, in the end."

"So that leaves us this crackpot," Travis said in a strange voice. Rei gave him a look but he ignored her.

"He manipulates shadows and can access the Gate in a minor manner—that's what he did with me all those years back," Al mused.

"Pride always comes before a downfall," Armstrong said sagely.

"I agree, Lieutenant Colonel. But I'm getting the feeling that we all are missing something seriously huge and important," Rei frowned as she selected a card and slapped it on the wall. It glowed a brief red before melding with the surroundings.

Travis gave a low whistle.

"Rei...seriously...?" he said, pointing at the spot where the card had been visible moments ago.

"Back up," she said grimly.

Al looked quizzically at the duo.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing at what Travis had been pointing.

"Alchemy, Alphonse Elric. My brand of hell," she said as she resumed walking.

*/*/

**THE VISITOR'S ENCLOSURE AND RESIDENCE**

**CENTRAL COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

"I know it's an unearthly hour but thank you for having me, Dr. Matthews," said Dr. Philip Rainsworth, shaking hands with the man who had treated Trisha Elric when she had been ill.

"Ah, it's all right. We all love Ed and Al and are insufferably proud of the two. They are our children and I'd be glad if I could be of help. Fire away, Dr. Rainsworth. And please, call me David. We country folk aren't much used to the slick of the city."

Rainsworth smiled at the benign man as he seated himself in the small parlour of the hotel room Mustang had booked for him.

"I checked through the reports you gave me yesterday, but I found something odd. You said nothing came out in the blood tests, but you added a side note that there was an overwhelmingly large amount of iron present. If you could elaborate..."

"Sure, Dr. Rainsworth. Women after the age of thirty show a considerable decline in iron—which make us prescribe iron-rich food for middle-aged and elderly women. I'm sure you're aware of that," said David.

Rainsworth nodded.

"At first, I was relieved that Trisha didn't have that sort of a problem. But when I delved in further, I got a gut feeling that something was wrong. It was sort of abnormal. And not to mention the levels were steadily rising. I tried medications but nothing worked. I suspect it was some sort of haemochromatosis."

"Cardiomyopathy...that would explain Major Elric's irregular heartbeat and the frequent chestpains. And if I'm correct, then doesn't it cause cancer in the liver?" Rainsworth said, the dawn of understanding lighting up his face.

"Yes, it does. Which made me diagnose it as cancer. And as for alchemy, it uses the iron in the blood to channelise the reactions. Guess it can be one of the reasons for the Elric brothers being such powerful alchemists," David sighed.

"A Catch-22 indeed," Rainsworth said ruefully. "But the treatment..."

"It's going to be tricky. As for Trisha's case, we couldn't do anything. The cirrhosis had spread quite widely for us to be of any help. But for Ed, I guess we still have time," David added.

"Time, David, is one fickle mistress."

*/*/

**THE RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

Rei was debating whether to join up with Ed and Roy or scout out Pride when the decision was yanked neatly out of her hands.

"What do we have here? Some military dogs and children," came a sibilant voice from the shadows.

"Funny, the one who calls others kids is a fine little pain-in-the-ass brat himself," Rei retorted, turning around.

"Pride," said Travis conversationally, as if he were commenting on the weather.

Pride frowned, as if unable to pick up Travis' life force.

"It's no use, Pride. We know what you're really up to," Al said, a grim set to his mouth. "It would have been infinitely better if you had stayed dead, you know."

Pride laughed, eliciting uncomfortable grins from his minions who flanked his back.

"I cannot die, kid. I am Pride. I'll always endure."

"That transmutation...it will fail," Rei said, her shoulders squared up. "I know stupid when I see it and you could be as old as time itself but you can't teach _me_ basic transmutation."

The Homunculus gave an amused chuckle at the statement, earning a look of frank surprise from Rei before she composed herself.

"You say that, yet you have an uncertain mind," he said innocently, scratching his chin. "I always knew that the Fullmetal Alchemist would defect—amazing how dunderheaded humans can be. And as we are on the subject, do you really think you are on the right side of the river this time?"

"What do you mean?" Al whispered, going pale.

Pride laughed out loud as he spread his arms wide open.

"The transmutation has begun a long time ago, my friend!"

*/*/

**THE RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

"The good news or the bad news?" Ling asked.

Ed frowned as Roy looked puzzled.

"What do you mean?" Roy asked, an eyebrow twitching with slight worry.

"Good news?" Ed said questioningly.

"Rei is here with reinforcements," Ling shrugged and Lan Fan nodded affirmatively from her perch.

"I can see them...almost. Twelve minutes north-west if we run," she added.

"Bad news?" Roy prompted, feeling an unusual sense of dread settle down in his stomach.

"Pride found them," Ling said, his eyes narrowing into almost invisible slits.

Ed cursed out loud, only to be shushed by Riza.

"Once I catch hold of that runt, I'm gonna squeeze that git dead," he growled, his amber eyes glinting in the dark.

Suddenly, Roy felt a change in the air...almost _zangy_. Like when lightning flashed during the storms.

He looked around, before cursing under his breath. Of course, this would be felt only by alchemists. How he wished he had one by his side right now!

To his surprise, Ed sniffed the air, his nose wrinkling up as he looked a little confused.

"Can you taste the air, Mustang?" he asked, sniffing.

Roy nodded, unable to comprehend. "It's the _tang_ that precedes an alchemical reaction, Fullmetal. How can you sense that?"

Ed looked at him, his eyes going slowly round in horror.

" _Hell!_ " he hissed, jutting out his hand and pulling one of Roy's gloved ones in it.

The lower quarter of the circle was glowing a dull red.

"That portion acts as a detector sigil, it glows when the transmutation sets off," he said in a low, hurried voice.

" _What?_ " Roy whispered, examining the palms of his gloves.

"This transmutation...the one that Pride is hell-bent on carrying out...we need to get to the centre of it! Otherwise, we would get caught in the crossfire and kiss our existence goodbye," Ed said grimly, looking around. "And the question is, _where did that bastard mark the centre of the goddamned circle?_ "

"Shouldn't it be where he is currently right now? I mean logically, he would want to be in the safest place possible," Ling reasoned, staring at the pulsing sigil.

Ed shook his head. "Not necessarily. Don't forget, that git's a Homunculus. This transmutation affects only humans. He can dance around naked if he wants to, he wouldn't even be touched."

Roy looked at the palm and then at the direction where Lan Fan said Pride's current position was.

"Hang on a second, you said Rei had a similar circle, right?" he asked, whipping around to face the blond alchemist.

Ed nodded. "Yeah, so?"

Roy began walking the width of the narrow path, scratching his chin as he willed his brain to whirr its gears faster.

" _What sort of alchemy do you use?" Roy asked the girl as the duo ate through the meagre rations in lunch tent. The Ishval summer was at its worst, and made more hellish by the stuffy Amestrian military uniform. Roy swore that the first thing he would do as Fuhrer would be to make the uniform less ostentatious and more relaxing._

" _It's more like a ground-based, long-distance alchemy. You can it is tailor-made to commit mass-murder," Rei sighed, spooning down the watery stew with distaste._

_Roy gave her a quizzical look._

_The young alchemist took out some cards from the pouch on her waist and laid them on the table. Roy saw transmutation circles etched on them._

" _What are these?" he asked curiously as he picked up one of the cards._

" _You can call me the back-up cavalry. These cards are like bombs—once placed in the correct formation, I can make them go boom!" she said, twirling the spoon in the bowl._

_Roy hurriedly replaced the card on the table, eliciting a small laugh from her._

" _Unless they are in the formation or I activate them, they are pretty useless," she chortled, picking them up and replacing them in her pouch. "It's a blend of eastern alchemy and a bit of Cretan theories with the brand of alchemy we practice here. My teacher was quite a well-travelled man."_

" _Your teacher? If yo pull off what you say you can, then I dare say your teacher's one excellent man," Roy said._

_She looked skeptical as she drank up the remainder._

" _He has to be...he was Van Hohenheim after all."_

" _That_ bastard?!" Ed yelled. "And why on _earth_ did Rei not tell me?"

"She anticipated your reaction, maybe," Roy answered dryly. "But the fact is, if I know Rei, she got this entire place tagged with those cards of hers. It's best we get close to her position—that way we get to kick butt without getting caught in the crossfire."

Roy looked at his subordinates, all of them who looked quite lost. Well, all except Riza who still had that killer feline look in her eyes.

"Your orders, sir?" she said briskly, cocking her gun.

"Always forward, Major Hawkeye," Roy grinned as the group hurried towards their friends...and their enemies.

*/*/

**THE RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

To Al's surprise and May's bewilderment, Pride's pronouncement was met with a grin.

"Are you sure you're like three hundred years old?" she smirked. Even Armstrong seemed to emit more sparkles than usual.

It was then when May clapped her hands over her mouth, letting out a light, awestruck "oh!"

"What?" he asked.

May silently pointed at the walls. Walls which were glowing a dull blue. And if Al squinted, he could make out Alex Armstrong-like faces on the walls—the creation of the Strong Arm Alchemist.

He suddenly felt weak-kneed.

He didn't to see all around to know that they were standing in the middle of a giant transmutation circle—a circle created by Rei Alstenheim.

"Alphonse, stay with May," Travis muttered from the corner of his mouth, his low voice making Al almost miss his words. "You're the hands-on alchemy guy here. Rei can talk tall, but she needs a lot of time to get her alchemy started. Small flashes she can do, but they wouldn't be even pinpricks against that Pride guy. If the situation flips, you and May are our only hope. Get to Catalina and stay sharp."

Al nodded and slowly stepped back, relaying the message to Rebecca.

Rebecca snorted as she undid the safety catch of her gun. "Man, I should have settled down with being a barmaid when I had the chance. Figures, you can't always choose your battles."

Al felt that electrical _tang_ in the air, the sort that precedes an alchemical reaction. Before he could open his mouth to shout out a warning, he felt May tug him down flat on the ground as a searing ball of fire missed his head by millimetres.

"What the bloody hell was _that_?" Rebecca asked, looking understandably frazzled.

Al looked up. And felt as if his heart stood still.

_No...no...no!_

It was white all around. No floor, no roof.

He looked around himself...Rei, Travis, May, Armstrong, Rebecca...Pride...

He slowly turned around.

The white-on-white figure... _no freaking way_...

"Welcome back, Alphonse Elric," the figure grinned, giant white teeth visible for all to see.

He saw Rei look at him, then at the figure...and then at the door that materialized behind the figure. She paled. He realized she must have put two and two together.

"Ah! So my transmutation seems to have been a success, though I didn't bargain for an audience," Pride said smoothly as he sauntered up to that white grinning figure.

"Who are you?" Rei whispered though Al could bet she already knew the answer.

The white being cackled happily.

"Who am I? Glad you asked. One name you might have for me is The World, or you might call me The Universe, or perhaps God, or perhaps the Truth. I am all and I am one, so of course this also means that I am _you_."


	23. A Soldier's Honour

**28 YEARS PRIOR THE PRESENT DAY**

**ST. AUGUSTINE GENERAL HOSPITAL**

**PENDLETON, AMESTRIS**

"Congratulations! It's a girl!" said the doctor, patting a bemused Richard Alstenheim on his shoulder. The man fell on unceremoniously on the cold, steel chair outside the labour room, his light amber eyes sparkling with joy.

"It's… _my_ daughter…" he whispered, tears starting to fall as he tried to believe the doctor's words.

"Go on, Mr. Alstenheim. I'm sure Clara would want you to meet the newest member," the doctor grinned before walking towards his cabin. "I'll drop by an hour later to check her vitals—though I dare say I could discharge her by tomorrow."

Richard was only half-listening to his old friend's words, his eyes fixed on the jet-black hair of his wife who was busy rocking a tiny little bundle.

His daughter.

He couldn't believe it.

"Richard, quit staring like that. Come in," Clara said gently, nodding her head.

She placed the bundle of pink blankets on his lap, smiling at the awestruck look on his face.

"She has your eyes, Rick," she said quietly, as if trying to not disturb the comfortable silence of the room. The baby circled her tiny fingers around Richard's pinky finger, gurgling with joy.

"This is your Papa, little Amber," said Clara, patting the head softly.

"Amber?" Richard asked.

"Her eyes…that's what prompted it. We could decide her proper, official name later. But for me, she would always be Amber," Clara replied softly, her cornflower blue eyes shining.

"She's going to be a manslayer when she grows up," she added. "Our angel will have no dearth of suitors, I think."

Richard stiffened at the thought. "No no no…no man is allowed to be within a twenty-mile radius of her. I'll personally rip his—"

"Language, Rick!" Clara exclaimed before dissolving into giggles. "Protective all ready, papa dearest?"

"You bet!"

*/*/

**8 YEARS LATER, 8 YEARS BEFORE THE ISHVAL WAR OF EXTERMINATION**

**20 YEARS BEFORE THE PRESENT DAY (THE YEAR ED WAS BORN)**

**PENDLETON ELEMENTARY SCHOOL**

"REI ALSTENHEIM!"

"She skipped off, Teach," drawled a boy, doodling the teacher's caricature in a corner of his notebook.

"That…that…ughh! She transmuted my files _again_!" the teacher raged, waving his files to show the class. What was supposed to be boring green was currently coloured a violent pink with words "I AM STUPID" emblazoned across the surface in neon green letters.

The boy, James Hausmann, guffawed.

"You find this funny, Mr. Hausmann?" the teacher growled.

James looked non-plussed.

"Naah. Just jealous of the fact that she could transmute that while I still cannot figure out the elemental composition so that I might deconstruct a wooden table," he drawled, though his eyes were twinkling with mirth.

The other students were trying to hold in the laughter that was threatening to burst out of physical confinement. With a huff, the teacher left the class, muttering about registering a complaint to the headmaster.

Just in time.

The class burst out into a roar, many rolling on the ground to control themselves. James leaned back on his chair, grinning to himself.

His stubbornly-untidy honey-blond hair and hazel eyes—the proof of his part-Drachman heritage—in a well-chiselled face and a worked out body made him look cute and handsome at the same time. Though a prankster through-and-through, being a mathematical genius and getting top scores in every test often pushed his teachers into a conundrum—to punish him for his pranks or praise him for his prowess.

Many of the faculty members left him to his own devices…and he was glad for that.

Though he did fool around with the other students, his only true friend was Rei. His partner-in-crime and forever-competitor.

After the classes were over for the day, he headed for the creek. As he expected, he found Rei sitting on the embankment, her legs splashing away in the water.

"Wazzup? Must say, that pink stunt was cool," he said, dropping down next to him.

"Dad left," she said softly. James eyes darkened as he looked at the water. "Everyone's leaving—alchemists, doctors…I don't understand. What is happening in Ishval? Mom says the Fuhrer wants to help the people there…I don't know…"

"Your dad's an amazing doctor…and I think he'll return soon enough. My dad was called too, and he returned within five months. My mom says that there's been drought and an epidemic in the east, that's why the military is dispatching soldiers," James said, splashing water a bit more violently, getting Rei's skirt wet.

"Hey!" Rei exclaimed indignantly.

"Get that mopey face off! Otherwise I'll push you in!" James catcalled, dancing away from her reach.

"You _wouldn't…_ " she said, a bit uncertainly before grinning madly.

"C'mon, we are getting late. Mr. Neulahn would be angry if we are late. Besides, he promised us he would be teaching elemental alchemy today," he said, picking up his satchel from the grassy bank after he pulled on his socks and wore his shoes.

Rei huffed a little but the prospect of learning alchemy made her cheerful again.

*/*/

**18 YEARS PRIOR THE PRESENT DAY**

**6 YEARS BEFORE THE ISHVAL WAR OF EXTERMINATION**

**2 YEARS AFTER ED WAS BORN**

**1 YEAR AFTER AL WAS BORN**

"Dad!"

Rei jumped up and hugged her father while her mother looked from the stairs, a soft smile on her lips.

Richard Alstenheim kissed his daughter on her forehead before lowering her onto the wooden floor.

"I'm so glad you returned, Rick…I was so worried," Clara whispered softly as she hugged her husband.

Richard kissed her head as he drank in her scent, dropping his bags on to the ground.

"Ishval…is _hell_ , Clara…there's no goddamn drought…they are _killing_ people there…" he said, trembling slightly.

That warm light in his eyes was no longer present, those amber orbs looked blank with terror.

"I don't know what's going on…but I know this…something really bad is going to happen…the Fuhrer is _mad…_ " he said, clutching her tightly in his arms.

Clara looked slightly alarmed at his state.

"What are you…the papers said that the military is sending funds to the east…" she said.

"The papers are _lying,_ Clara…the soldiers are being sent to _kill_ , not _help_ …and we doctors are supposed to help in the _killing_ …."

A poke on his waist made him break his embrace and look at his daughter.

Rei was holding a carved wooden statue of their family and on the stand, the words "WELCOME BACK, DAD!" were engraved.

"How…when…" he said, confused.

"Alchemy, Dad!" she said brightly. "Mr. Neulahn taught me!"

Richard grinned, kneeling down to Rei's height.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he said, taking the statue from her.

*/*/

**15 YEARS BEFORE THE PRESENT DAY**

**4 YEARS BEFORE THE ISHVAL WAR OF EXTERMINATION**

**CENTRAL COMMAND**

"…and I hereby pronounce Rei Alstenheim as State Alchemist and confer upon her the title of the Dancing Alchemist as a tribute to the innovation she had presented in her practical evaluation…"

Rei looked ahead proudly as she marched up to the one-eyed man dressed in full regalia to receive her State Alchemist watch and the certificate of appointment to the state.

"Congratulations, Major Rei Alstenheim, the youngest alchemist ever to clear the exam," Fuhrer King Bradley said, shaking her hand firmly. "Amestris is proud of you."

Rei bowed in acceptance before taking the pocket watch.

"State Alchemists are not sent to the frontlines, Uncle Rick. They just sit in the library and research. Don't worry, Rei would be fine," James said, clapping hard. Though he couldn't clear the practical evaluation as he had gone down with flu that day, he was happy for his friend.

Though the tell-tale blush on his cheeks tried to make him think of Rei in ways _other_ than a friend.

"That's why I wanted her to clear the exam. You get to work too, young James. From what Neulahn says, you're as good as her. Get that watch next year so that we don't have to see you get drafted," Richard said. Clara and the Hausmanns were busy conversing within themselves to pay them any notice.

James eyes darkened at the prospect.

"They wouldn't send a twelve-year-old kid like us in _any_ circumstances, would they?" he asked.

"The military…is not known for being kind," said a voice behind him.

Richard and James turned around, only to come face-to-face with a dark-haired man and distinctive Xingese features.

James saw the gleaming metal chain in the man's military blues. A State Alchemist!

"I am Major Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist," the man said, offering his hand.

"I am Dr. Richard Alstenheim, trauma specialist and this is James Hausmann," Richard said, shaking it.

James could see that Mustang's eyes looked tired.

"When did you get your watch?" he asked curiously.

"Last year. Fat lot of good it did…I'm still scurrying about like one of the regular military greenhorns," he said with a dry laugh.

"That kid is your daughter, sir?" he added, looking at Richard.

Richard beamed, nodding.

"Yep, that's my little Rei all right," he said.

Mustang smiled at Richard's enthusiasm. "I've heard that her practical evaluation was legendary. Please convey my congratulations to her."

"Sure, Major," Richard said.

"All right, Dr. Alstenheim, James, I take my leave," Mustang said, bowing slightly before marching away.

"Seems a nice enough guy," Richard remarked.

James stared at Mustang's retreating back.

"He had tired eyes, Uncle Rick."

*/*/

**12 YEARS BEFORE THE PRESENT DAY**

**1 YEAR BEFORE THE ISHVAL WAR OF EXTERMINATION**

**CENTRAL COMMAND**

"NO! It can't be!" Rei exclaimed, slamming her palms on the wooden table.

James stared at the messenger as if the man had delivered a death sentence.

"Under the Order 3066 as sanctioned by the Fuhrer's office, every State Alchemist is required to mobilise under their respective commands within six months and be at stand by until further orders," he read the document slowly, unable to believe his eyes. One year into his military blues and this happens.

"Sirs…" the messenger squeaked.

"Yeah…leave," Rei said dismissively.

"What else does that damn document say?" Rei asked, looking tired all of a sudden.

"Major Alstenheim is assigned under Brigadier General Flannigan, Major Hausmann is assigned under…Brigadier General Grand," James said, looking up into her eyes.

"Basque Grand! No way!" she whispered, her fingers clenching into a fist. "That man's a bloody murderer!"

James laughed weakly. "Don't worry, maybe I'll end up screwing so bad, they would send me back home."

Rei jumped up from her chair and dashed to him, and before he could say anything she kissed him fiercely.

"Promise me you'll come back," she said quickly, holding him by the shoulders and staring straight into his hazel eyes. "You'll be safe, and you'll come back."

James felt a bit disconnected before the reality of the situation crashed on him.

Rei Alstenheim, his secret crush-cum-best friend-cum-partner in crime, had just _kissed_ him.

He stood up, his eyes at the same level as hers.

"Of course I'll come back. The Water Dragon Alchemist is not _that_ pathetic," he said, cupping her face in his hands as he enveloped her lips with his, the urgency melting into desperation as both of them tried to hold on to the moment, the moment where the war still remained as a set of numbers on paper.

*/*/

**11 YEARS AGO**

**AREA NW45/54, FORMERLY THE TOWN OF ZAR-AL-ANAM**

**ISHVAL**

James flattened his hair nervously, his fists clenching. The town had been blasted apart by the famed Flame Alchemist, the man with the "tired eyes". He couldn't believe his eyes—the scale of destruction seemed too big for one man to commit.

Maybe the State Alchemists _were_ monsters.

And his hands were no cleaner than the soldier next to him. He glanced at the boy.

He seemed eighteen, two good years older than him. But his lanky frame, trembling limbs and bloodshot eyes made him look most ill-fitted person to step into this Earth's version of hell.

"Get a hold of yourself, Corporal. At this rate, you'll get killed," he said softly in the eerie calm that accompanied the timed explosions.

Dirty blond hair with green eyes. He would look at ease in some university fresher's party, not in the dust and blood of war. James wondered what brought him here. But considering the rate the war had picked up, anyone old enough to not be dwarfed by a rifle was being drafted.

Another blast shook the wall dangerously, making the alchemist have second thoughts about taking refuge behind it. The rebels were fighting back, even though the casualties on their side were alarmingly high. He thought of the reason they were fighting.

He could find none.

 _Why are we killing people whom we are supposed to protect?_ He thought.

He looked at the transmutation circles tattooed on his fingertips.

Time he ended it.

He tapped his index finger against his thumb, initiating a transmutation that began making the air around the rebels suddenly very humid and very heavy. Another tap—slowly, the oxygen began dissolving in the infinite water droplets, effectively reducing the breathable air content.

He was, effectively, suffocating his enemy to death.

" _Hmm…so, you want to specialise in Water Alchemy, kid? Remember, mastering elements is whole different ball game," Mr. Neulahn smirked, unable to stop grinning at the ten-year-old's enthusiasm._

" _I want to make the water dance on my fingertips, Mr. Neulahn!" James said excitedly, as his first ever water-based transmutation involving mini-geysers sputtered away to nothingness._

Water Alchemy was supposed to be beautiful. It was never meant to kill people.

James forgot the last time he made water dance on his fingertips.

" _Once we come home, let's go away—we'll hand in our resignations. We could always teach in the University if we need money. We could visit many countries, learn all sorts of new things to incorporate into our alchemy…we are alchemists, James. We are on a quest to learn the Truth, not fight a stupid war!" Rei said as they lay on the tiny, thin bed of the Central Command barracks. Rei's platoon would be leaving tomorrow, and his would be leaving the day after._

_James held her close, feeling her beating heart warm him the way no fire could._

_Rei cuddled against him, her head buried in his chest._

" _We'll come back, right?" she asked in a small voice._

_James held her tight, as if he could protect her from all those faceless people who could kill her._

" _We'd go, visit Mr. Neulahn. Perhaps buy him that book on Advanced Anatomy he wanted so much. And maybe visit that canal…and then go to Xing. I've heard that Xingese practice a different sort of alchemy. We could see it with our own eyes…" he murmured into her hair._

_And the entire night, they lay in each other's arms, trying to impede the morning with their will._

"Major Hausmann!"

James lifted up his head to see Basque Grand's second-in-command give him a murderous look.

"Do it fast! I need to send in a platoon for a sweeping mission!" he rumbled angrily before barking orders to others.

Regretfully, he tapped the third finger. The transmutation that would make the cells of the lungs bloat and burst, making the victim drown in his own blood.

A couple of seconds later, another blast ripped through the Amestrian forces.

And the last thing James Hausmann saw was a black-haired, amber-eyed little girl sitting on the bank of the canal, with a smile so big it could rival the sun

_I am sorry…Rei…_

*/*/

**11 YEARS AGO (2 DAYS AFTER THE END OF ISHVAL WAR OF EXTERMINATION)**

**PENDLETON**

**AMESTRIS**

Newly minted Colonel Rei Alstenheim couldn't wait to meet her parents. And perhaps make James a bit jealous.

Double-promotion during wars weren't uncommon. But sixteen-year-olds hardly get double-promotions.

But, Rei thought with a serious set to her jaw, sixteen-year-olds are rarely sent to battle in the first place.

She couldn't help but grin as she remembered Roy's astonished face when she had brandished her new shoulder-flaps under that man's nose.

She frowned slightly, looking around at the empty station. She was sure her parents knew she would be arriving today.

So why didn't they come?

"Don't tell me they are too enthralled by James and his box of stories to come and pick me up," she groaned as she single-handedly lowered the suitcase from the steps onto the curb. She flagged down a cab with her uninjured hand, told the driver her address and was soon counting away minutes till she would be enveloped by the heavenly smells of apple pie and blueberry muffins washed down with creamy chocolate-laced coffee.

She couldn't help but groan happily at the thought.

"You from Ishval?" the cabbie asked, eyeing her sling.

"Yeah," she nodded.

"Heard it was nasty…just yesterday, we had a body coming in. The parents were crying like crazy…wars are bad things," the cabbie said.

Rei froze. A body? Yesterday?

James' platoon was supposed to arrive yesterday…

No…lots of people were drafted from Pendleton…

"Who was the guy?" she asked, praying to all the powers-that-be that the name wasn't the one she was dreading.

"A State Alchemist. Major James Hausmann," he said, turning into the driveway of Rei's home.

Rei didn't need to ascertain the truth of the cabbie's words—the mass of black outside the Hausmann house said it loud and clear.

*/*/

**3 YEARS AFTER THE ISHVAL WAR OF EXTERMINATION**

**9 YEARS BEFORE THE PRESENT DAY**

"Colonel Alstenheim? Someone wants to meet you," said the secretary in her trademark clipped voice.

"Show him in," Rei replied in a tired voice.

After James' funeral, her life had begun working on autopilot. She woke up, ate, worked, ate, slept. Repeat that everyday till today.

Getting transferred to Western Command was a blessing in disguise. Unlike Central, some of the humanity and warmth still survived in the reddish-brown walls of the towering edifice. People here still had the ability to look shocked, unlike their counterparts at Central who had become too numbed to feel anything. Besides, Pendleton was a day's journey by train away.

She could visit her parents anytime she wanted.

But since the last three years, she had refrained from visiting Pendleton. She couldn't…she couldn't walk up those streets, sit in that garden…without being reminded of _him_.

Her mother visited her every Saturday, tried to clean up the studio apartment which was her home now.

She tried to encourage her to go on a date. But every time Rei even thought about it, those hazel eyes would float in front of her eyes and the searing heat of that kiss would ghost over her own.

She couldn't date anyone with the amount of emotional baggage she had at the moment.

She lifted her head as she heard the door of her office open.

The man was tall, with a mass of sunlight blond hair tied in a ponytail. His bespectacled eyes were burning amber, almost like her own. He was clad in outdoor clothes and had a small briefcase in his hands.

"Greetings, Colonel Alstenheim," he said, walking up to her desk. "I am Van Hohenheim."

*/*/

* * *

**PRESENT DAY**

**RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

The momentary flash of searing orange ball of fire almost singed off Roy's eyebrows but thanks to Ed's reflexes, he was mostly unscathed.

"Is everyone all right?" Roy called out, standing up and turning back. Riza was leaning against the wall, heaving slightly while a pile of molten metal—he realised it was her sniping rifle—lay next to her. Lan Fan was pulling a dazed Ling up on his feet as Havoc, Brosch and Ross looked flabbergasted at the turn of events—but were otherwise okay.

"Hey Mustang...can you feel _anything_?" Ed muttered. The blond alchemist was on the ground, clutching his automail foot that was currently steaming.

Roy stilled his senses—that _tang_ he had tasted in the air had vanished.

"No... back to normalcy," he said.

Ed rubbed his right shoulder, where once his automail port had been present.

"I'm getting a weird feeling, Roy..."

"Ed! Pride...he has vanished!" Ling exclaimed suddenly, leaping up onto a wall for a better view.

"Say _what?_ "

Roy looked at the Xingese emperor, astonished. Ed tried to get up on to his feet but apparently the ball of fire must have fried the internal wiring of his automail leg, making him topple. Roy snaked an arm under his shoulders to help him stand.

"Ling... tell me...does this feel like the time we ended up in Gluttony's stomach?" Ed asked. Roy could see the dread and panic engulf the young face.

Ling slowly nodded.

"What's worse...this feels at least ten times more dangerous!"

*/*/

**FUHRER'S OFFICE**

**CENTRAL COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

Archibald Grumman was, on surface, a genial old man. With a bushy handlebar moustache and twinkling eyes along with the disposition of a kid on caffeine, he was perhaps the most humane Fuhrer in Amestris' recent history.

So humane that he almost fell sorry for the Home Secretary Theophilus Brandish.

Almost.

Roy Mustang's team member Kain Fuery had messaged the office, saying that he had yet to receive any contact from either the Brigadier General or that eccentric Major General from the Western Command.

"We need to proceed with phase B now, Fuhrer Grumman," said Olivier briskly, poking the trussed up Home Secretary with her ceremonial sword. "As much as I deplore his smugness, the Brigadier General's ability to slip out of trouble is legendary. And if I'm not mistaken, the Fullmetal Alchemist is with him. So, I dare say we would see them by dinner."

Grumman rested his chin on his interlocked fingers as he surveyed his erstwhile office member with dispassionate curiosity.

"I'm more worried about Riza and the others. The non-alchemists. This is a freakshow—a place where normal people like us should stay at the sidelines," he said slowly.

Olivier snorted, resulting into a more sharper jab and making Brandish whimper.

"It's time we upped the alchemists in their game—otherwise a second Bradley regime would soon dawn upon us," she said, her eyes narrowing. "Let's start with asking this pudge bag as to why he was so intent in selling out our country."

She jabbed him again, this time earning a tiny dot of red on his pristine white shirt. "Tell us, Brandish...what did the Cretans offer you?"

Brandish spat on the floor as he stared defiantly at the Briggs commander.

"Fiesty...so you're not that big a wimp-pot," Olivier smiled dangerously. "With your express permission, Fuhrer Grumman, I would like the professional interrogators under my command to _interrogate_ Secretary Brandish in one of strong rooms of the basement."

Grumman gave one hard look at the tied up man before nodding. "Granted, Olivier. Just make sure that the room doesn't become _too_ messy."

*/*/

**SOMEWHERE IN THE PLANE OF EXISTENCE**

**THE GATE OF TRUTH**

"So, younger brother of my oldest friend...what brings you here?" Truth asked as it sat on its perch, pointedly ignoring the Homunculus sauntering up to him.

" _You_ brought _us_ here," Al pointed out, his legs shaking with fear. He looked around to see whether it was some sort of an illusion.

Nope...true, bitter reality.

"I've paid the toll, Gatekeeper," Pride said in a self-satisfied manner. "Grant me my wish."

Truth laughed out loud, as if it were the funniest thing he had heard since long.

"Humans and their creations...they never fail to amuse me," it said, rubbing his face as if wiping away a tear. " _Toll_ , you say? For what?"

"For becoming your master, Gatekeeper!" Pride hissed, his smirk now turning into a grimace of disgust.

"Is that so, Homunculus? Do you really think _I,_ the one with Creation itself, _has a master_?" Truth continued in its trademark giggling voice.

Al felt goosebumps come up his arms. _This is not good..._

"Alphonse...what's going on?" Rei asked frantically, looking around.

"It seems whatever Pride wanted, the toll isn't enough," Al replied.

"Now what?" May asked, sounding worried.

Al had no idea. His brother had to literally pay an arm to get his _soul_ out...what would be the toll to get the _entire group_ out on the reality plane with _everything intact_?

"Knowledge comes at a price, boy," Truth continued, turning towards Pride. His grin turned wider. "What price shall you pay?"

"Them! Take them!" Pride said, eagerly gesticulating towards the others. "They are live humans! Along with four alchemists! That should be sufficient!"

Truth let out a long, cackling laugh that echoed forebodingly in the space. "You sacrificed the _entire plane of your existence_ and still didn't satisfy my requirements...what will the addition of four more puny alchemists do?"

"Plane of existence? Not really," Travis spoke up. Al could see he looked shaken but that look in his eyes spoke volumes.

Truth cocked his head. "You, young man, seem different than the others. Even I cannot place you. Who are you?"

Al frowned, staring at the chestnut-haired man he had grown to trust over the short period of time he knew him.

"Stop fooling us...you know as well as I do, the _plane of existence_ or whatever you term our world to be is perfectly fine. So stop taking the mickey out of us and let us go," Travis said grimly, walking up to Truth's perch.

Truth's grin grew even wider.

"Young man, you are perceptive. How did you know that?" It asked. Al could hear the undercurrents of mirth and frank curiosity in Its voice. He wondered whether the others noticed it.

 _If we can get Truth engaged enough, maybe we can get out of here,_ he mused.

Truth frowned for a fraction of a second before cackling again.

"I can't believe it!" It guffawed, catching the group off-guard momentarily. "All things considered, the past couple of years have been _very_ fruitful for me… I'm having the time of my eternal life!"

Al frowned—what was he talking about.

Suddenly, Rei paled—Al had support her by her shoulders to hold her up.

"No… _No…_ " she whispered frantically, her amber eyes wide in horror.

"Al…tell me…how is an imperfect Homunculus created?" she asked softly, staring straight into the younger Elric's eyes.

Al couldn't look away, even though he wanted to.

"You need the remains of a live human…a human who _hadn't died yet_ …" he whispered, slowly following the chain of thought as he looked at Travis, a slight frown on his face.

Armstrong and May looked stunned as they slowly came to the realisation.

"But how?" May asked in a hollow voice. "My Dragon Pulse couldn't pick it up…"

Travis gave a harsh laugh. "Because I've trained myself to evade a cursory scanning."

He turned to face the group.

"Al, May…everyone…I'm sorry…I should've told you…" he said, his chestnut eyes slightly dim.

"It's not that…" Rei whispered.

"Hang on a second, you _knew_ Travis was a Homunculus?" Al asked, the fact throwing him slightly off-balance.

"I knew…but that alone is not the question…" Rei continued in that soft, wavering voice that went a complete U-Turn on the brash, no-nonsense aura that seemed to seemed to cling to her.

"James Hausmann?" she said.

Travis looked at her like a man torn from inside-out before slowly nodding.

"Truth indeed!" Truth cackled, clapping its hands at the revelation.

"I'm…not _him_ …not completely…but his soul is the strongest…" Travis said. "It was his last wish…to protect you…"

Al looked from Rei to Travis, trying to figure out what was going on.

"James Hausmann?" Al asked, unable to hold down his curiosity any more.

"The Water Dragon Alchemist who wrote the treatise on water alchemy and the properties of remote transmutation…that work formed the base of my alkahestry," May said slowly.

Rei stood up on her own, strength returning to her limbs.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, sounding tired.

"What could I tell…James, for all reasons, is not alive anymore. I couldn't give you any semblance of false hope, especially when you finally got your life back on track," Travis answered.

"Happy reunion…can we get back to the main event here?" Pride whined nasally.

Truth gave me a mildly interested look.

"I sense a barrier between the gate and the other world, Pride the Homunculus," It said, grinning. "You are trapped…and you've no way out."

*/*/

**RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

"Winry!" Ed exclaimed, running forward towards the bemused looking girl who was sitting on the ground.

"Miss Rockbell, what happened?" Roy asked urgently.

"I don't know…I just remember Travis throwing me on the ground before that explosion happened. And wait…" she fumbled about her jacket before withdrawing a card.

"He told me to give it to you," she said.

Ed took the card from her.

On it was a transmutation circle. On the back, there was a hastily scribbled note.

_If you have this, then hell has broken loose. I'll try and bring everyone back. Activate the circle and leave the rest to us._

_Thanks for everything, Ed…I mean it._

_James Hausmann_

Ed crumpled the card and threw it away.

"That damn bastard! Can't believe I would be using that insult for someone other than you, Mustang," he growled.

"What happened?" Roy asked.

"Long story short…a guy is hell-bent to play the hero. We need to get the ball rolling before we begin receiving funeral invites," he said grimly.

"So, you are the genius here, Ed. What do we do?" Ling asked.

"First, we need to open the Gate. We need to perform Human Transmutation."


	24. To Be King: Part I

_What qualities does one need to become a king?_

_Selflessness? Perhaps._

_Ability to foresee? Of course._

_Determination? That's kind of obvious._

_And what else?_

_And what is a king, actually? Is it the person on the ornamental chair, or is it the ornamental chair itself? Is king a reality, or an abstract? Is it a value given to a position to mould humanity into a functioning unit? Or is it a position subject to hierarchical succession by a lucky descendant?_

_Do the people live for the king? Or does the king live for the people? Or is it more like a symbiotic relationship?_

_Guess that depends on the participants involved..._

*/*/

**RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

Human transmutation. One of the biggest taboos of Alchemy. One part of Ed's mind couldn't help but remark how this difficult piece of knowledge became more commonplace than turning metal into gold. Weren't human beings supposed to be materialistic in nature?

Ed thought back to the day when Travis told him the truth about his existence—and the souls that made him up. It was funny how the chestnut-haired man came into contact with Mustang—of all people to work for, he chose the one route which had the highest possibility of him running into Rei within due course of time. Which was the only thing he wanted to avoid—after all, he did have tiny little identity crisis within himself. And meeting Rei would end up complicating much more than he would prefer. But Ed couldn't blame the guy; of all people to work for as an informer, Mustang was the best. He never asked questions and didn't care much, as long as the job got done. And Travis could deny the hind leg off the horse, but Ed refused to believe that the Homunculus didn't have a tiny part which didn't want to see Rei once again.

Ed remembered him struggle at some points, especially during James' death anniversary. Rei wasn't someone to turn on the taps, but that didn't mean she was as happy as a clown. Her usually fierce eyes were noticeably dimmed for at least a week.

Travis swore that he would do whatever he could to protect Rei as a last piece of favour for James. Maybe in that way, James could finally find some peace.

And now this.

"Whoa! I'd no idea," Mustang gave a low whistle as he sat on his haunches, watching Ed as he drew the circle on the sandy ground with the help of a long rod. "Travis...a Homunculus...it's overwhelming, to say the least."

"Rei never threw a fit about what she had termed as his 'problem'," Ed added, frowning as he checked the circle for any discrepancies. "Besides, he's trustworthy. Though he has his stupid moments. But still, I'm surprised you are more interested about him being Homunculus rather than the bigger story of the angsty drama."

"I think he's nice," said Winry softly as she looked up at the dark sky. "He did save me."

"And for that, I'm going to be eternally grateful," Ed said, dropping the rod and walking up to Winry. He shrugged out of his coat and draped it over her shoulders. She blushed as she pulled the coat closer for warmth.

Ed pretended he didn't see her reddening cheeks and quickly turned around, as he could feel the heat rising up his face. No way was he blushing like a school boy in front of all of them!

"That part is hard to digest...I mean, it's rarer than the blue moon. And I really don't want to be in the picture when Rei finds out. She can outrank me throughout What's the plan? Don't forget that you can no longer do alchemy," Roy said. "Though you might have the knowledge, you're no different than Winry where the Gate is concerned."

"Yeah, yeah. I know, old man," Ed grumbled, kicking a stray stone and looking up at the sky. Even though his watch said it was almost mid-morning, the sky was as dark as night.

"The last time I met Rei, we drafted a fail-safe in case something went wrong. The original plan was about me infiltrating Pride's happy party, drudge up some info along with researching about the disease or whatever I'm afflicted with, and get the hell out before the main force gatecrashes. But it seems Pride had completely different plans to begin with, so we had to keep a Plan B. Which involved _this_ ," Ed pointed at the circle.

"From what I've researched till date and you'd agree once you hear me out...the human transmutation is a double-faced entity. It's like a one-way door...but can be used the other way illegally. Without getting caught, that is."

"And how do you do that?" Roy asked, frank curiosity evident in his obsidian eyes.

Even Hawkeye and rest listened to him attentively, though in the sniper's case, Ed knew that she had one ear out on alert for any sort of disturbance.

"The four main symbols make up the core of the circle—and these symbols define the source of power from which the transmutation is driven. The primary power source is the alchemist's soul, followed by the ingredients—the compounds that constitute a living body. The reason why the transmutation is eternally doomed is because of it's primary power source, that is, the soul. The soul is an undefined, unrestrained entity. It is an abstract, something which has no physical form. Alchemy deals with physical forms, so introducing something ethereal into the equation dooms it. It's like trying to power a motorcar with _the idea_ of fuel...it doesn't work. And of course, no amount of raw material in the world can compensate for opening the Gate. So," Ed looked knowingly at Mustang, his amber eyes gleaming in the gloom.

"Gate be damned...you don't say..." Mustang whistled slowly, an incredulous expression spreading over his face.

"You got it, Mustang. When the equation runs out of the compounds, it starts feeding itself the next most powerful source—live human beings. That's why people rarely survive a human transmutation; the fuel's never enough," Ed explained, a mirthless smirk on his lips as he stared at the circle.

"But what about the Gate? How does Truth fit in with human transmutation?" Mustang asked.

"Good question...in fact, this was the only obstacle this theory of mine had faced. I was almost convinced that my hypothesis was wrong before I realised how blind I was—ego!" Ed exclaimed.

"Ego?" Hawkeye spoke up, puzzled.

"Yes, Major. Ego. Truth is...well, _truth_ of all things but if we see from the alchemy's point of view, we can say It is the... _whatever..._ who ensures that the laws of alchemy are followed. Not that metal-into-gold thing...equivalent exchange. That is the only natural law in existence. And not just alchemy, but every other process in existence. The give-and-take ideology. Once a life is extinguished, it ceases to exist. Theoretically, only a soul can equal a soul since both of them are definition-less. It's like equating infinity with infinity—nothing results from it. So when one attempts to bring back the dead to life, you are encroaching into Truth's territory. And what you get in return is a backlash. A reminder of one's mortality status."

Mustang scratched his chin. "So you are saying that since human transmutation is basically a sham, you are changing the circle for something different?"

"Yup. This circle over here doesn't bring the dead to life, but rather it opens the Gate without transporting us physically into its plane. That way, we are not sacrificing our mortality—which means, we don't need to pay the toll. Slick, right?" Ed grinned.

"For once, pipsqueak, I agree with you," Mustang smirked, dodging the ill-aimed punch to his head. "This proves the fact that even though you do look and act like a dunderhead at times, you aren't actually one."

Ed for once looked puzzled whether to accept it as praise or a poke to his dignity.

Winry chuckled. "But both of you act like toddlers, you know. Genius-level intelligence, but toddlers all the same."

"I agree, Winry. That nail was hit right on its head," Hawkeye agreed, a small smile softening her features.

"Now, listen to the plan—Mustang, you will initiate the transmutation. But if you feel the drain to be too great, then back off immediately. Remember, you're the only guy with alchemy here—you get buzzed, then we're completely trashed. I'll enter alone—and before you start lecturing, it is just because I need the Gate to remain open from this side," Ed said grimly, previous traces of mirth now replaced with seriousness.

"I might not be an alchemist, but I can help with the _chi_...the energy supply," Ling added slowly, rubbing the spot where his Ouroborous used to be.

Ed nodded. "Thanks, Ling."

"But what are _you_ going to do?" Mustang asked, his eyes narrowing.

Ed sighed. "What I do best... _improvise_."

*/*/

**SOMEWHERE IN THE PLANE OF EXISTENCE**

**THE GATE OF TRUTH**

"Pride...precedes a fall as the old adage goes, am I not correct, little brother of my old friend?" Truth cackled, it's blank face towards Pride's uncertain one.

"This is...this is...no, _you cannot do this_!" Pride shrieked in his childish voice, echoeing in the endless hall. "I have _paid_ the bloody _toll_!"

"And how can you be so sure?" Truth purred, scratching it's chin—at least that's what Al could make out—languidly. "Did I ever tell you what _is_ this toll thing all about?"

Al frowned, glancing at Rei for approval. But the Major General looked too winded out by Travis' revelation to process anything at the moment. But Travis mirrored his look as his eyes followed the exchange between the two inhuman beings with narrowed eyes.

"Do you know what is this all about, Al?" Travis asked in a low voice. Al shook his head.

"But it makes sense in a way," May muttered thoughtfully, staring at her palms. "The toll, we have just assumed it after conducting various experiments over the last five-hundred years. When did we really get some exact proof?"

"Isn't alchemy all about deconstruction and reconstruction?" Al asked. He saw Travis give Rei a gentle shake in an attempt to get her out of the stupor.

"But so is chemistry," Alex said, lowering his voice. "The real truth of alchemy—equivalent exchange, the payment of the toll—where and when have actually _proved_ it?"

Al felt suddenly lightheaded, his knees wobbling. _All these years, did he and his brother chase...an illusion?_

"No, that's not it."

Al turned. It was Rei. She still looked pale, her eyes slightly bloodshot but that demeanour was back.

"Alchemy...is not just science. It is a philosophy...a way of life. You should know it best, Al, since you have adopted "Equivalent Exchange" as your life's ideology. Transmutations aside, bringing the dead back to life doesn't fall under the purview of science. There's no exchange here...how will you equate the value of a life? So, it is a crime. You don't pay tolls for a crime, you get punished. Truth, it is not a being...it's more like an amalgamation of nature's conscience. The Punisher, if you want to get really philosophical about it."

"Rightly put, young alchemist," Truth said. Al swore he could hear a respectful undercurrent in it's voice.

"Is that so?" Pride screeched angrily, his eyes now a dangerous red. "Then it makes the job all the more simpler—I destroy you, then I rule the world!"

"Oh dear," May groaned, clutching Al's arm tightly. "Why am I getting the feeling that this is steamrolling from bad to worse?"

 _And why do you have to be always right, May?_ Al thought woefully.

Blood-red appendages began to shoot out of Pride's back and legs, flapping around like a grotesque octopus.

" _Damn it_! It's the Gate...you don't need Equivalent Exchange here," Travis hissed.

Alex rushed ahead, punching the ground with his fist, bringing up a greyish wall. And it was not a second too soon; they could hear the thumps made by Pride's appendages on the other side.

"Al, help Alex with the shield! May, get on the offensive with me! Travis..." Rei swallowed before continuing. "Travis...evaluate Pride. Find a clean shot. Whatever happens, we need to end it _here_."

As Al scurried ahead to help Alex, he couldn't help but feel a grin work up his face. Well, he was in the middle of an unbelievable, fantastic situation which would most probably lead him to his own funeral, but he couldn't help but feel the old sense of excitement run in his veins.

It had been a long time since he actually fought in such life-and-death situations.

*/*/

_King?_

_Yes...who is it?_

Ed couldn't figure whether his eyes were closed or open...it was all dark either way. He felt the voice whisper...in his _ear? Head?_

He didn't know.

_Ling? Mustang? Bradley? Hohenheim? Who do you think the king is?_

Ed shook his head...he couldn't even figure out whether he was upright or upside down.

_What is this "king" business? Who's barking?_

_Is the ruler a king or is it the ruled? Who protects whom?_

Ed scratched his head, bemused.

_Like "who came before, chicken or the egg" puzzle? I dunno..._

_Think carefully, Edward Elric. Your answer might change the world._

_*/*/_

**THE RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

"Sir, you don't look so well," Riza said, dropping onto her knees and wiping Roy's forehead with a piece of cloth.

"And neither does Ling," Winry added in a worried voice. The Xingese ruler looked as if he hadn't eaten for a week. "What's taking him so long?"

"The Gate...it...is a funny place..." Ling said through gritted teeth. "Even...though what...I...witnessed...was a...bad copy...when Gluttony swallowed...us..."

"My Lord, please refrain from straining yourself," Lan Fan said, shushing him.

"Roy..." Riza muttered.

"Ed is still in there," Roy reminded her. No way was he going to stop the transmutation now.


	25. To Be King: Part II

**INTERROGATION CHAMBER**

**CENTRAL COMMAND**

**AMESTRIS**

There were only few instances in life when Major General Olivier Mira Armstrong fell at a loss. As she sat on the rickety metal chair outside the interrogation chamber, she couldn't help but think over what she heard from that traitor.

 _What on earth were you babbling about, Brandish? s_ he mused, rubbing the material of her coat between her fingers.

"Sir!"

She looked up to see a corporal saluting her.

"Go and inform the Fuhrer that the interrogation is complete. I'll come up shortly and personally pass him the details," she said.

The corporal saluted again and marched out.

_The Gate will submit only to the King Candidate...no human can fulfil the requirement. And if the Gate is presented with the wrong person, you all will die!_

What on _earth_ was Brandish trying to say?

*/*/

**ROCKBELL RESIDENCE**

**RESEMBOOL, AMESTRIS**

Pinako Rockbell woke up to a dark morning, but she was unperturbed—after all, she had known Van Hohenheim for the better part of her life and so, ability to deal with strangeness came with the territory. She stoked the fire in her workshop, looking out at the gloom through her window. It was cold, even by late autumn standards. She wondered what those two were upto.

_They are Elrics...of course they will be fine._

*/*/

**SECRETARY OFFICE**

**THE ROYAL PALACE**

**MILOS**

Julia Crichton couldn't help but shiver at the forbidding darkness that plunged the morning into gloom. She knew something like this was bound to happen, if the Amestris' Western Command's Major General's letter was to be believed.

_Lady Julia Crichton_

_Pardon me for not following the decorum but ex-Alchemist Edward Elric tells me that you can be trusted with this information. I don't have any choice, so I am writing this letter to you._

_Tampering of unimaginable proportions have been done to the Gate by the Homunculus Pride, aided by the terrorist faction responsible for the Ishvallan Civil War. Both you and I know that they are being funded by Creta, your ally._

_I understand Milos is a small nation which shares most of its border with Creta. Frankly, Milos does not possess the firepower to counter Creta at the moment as it is in the process of building itself into a sovereign nation. I know Milos has indulged in alchemical espionage against ex-Alchemist Elric when he last visited your land. He considers you to be a good friend, so I have kept this particular piece of information from him._

_Pride will attempt to open the Gate very soon. If something goes wrong, and there is a high possibility of it happening, please ensure the safety of your people. Milosian alchemy, though archaic, has its roots in simple shielding transmutations—I am sure your researchers will be able to pull it off. But DO NOT inform Creta of the same—if I believe my sources, the Cretan Army is considering to use your nation as a sacrifice if the need arises._

_I hope you can survive this trying time—I know I am not being very helpful here but this is the most I can do at the moment. As for Creta, you should not worry much...the damage radius falls short by at least a hundred miles from the nearest Cretan city. Due to most of the Eastern Creta being deserts, civilians do not inhabit that area. So, concern yourself only with your people and stay safe._

_Maj. Gen. Rei Alstenheim_

_Western Command_

_Amestris_

_P.S.: Please destroy this letter as soon as you have read it._

Julia looked at the faint yellow circles of light levitating above the houses—the "Shielding Transmutations", the ones her parents had discovered a long back. She gave a small smile as she recalled the Alstenheim's words about not worrying about Creta. Ed must have told her that she was originally from Creta.

Typical Ed.

She looked at the pulsing transmutation circles, determination burning in her teal eyes.

_This...is nothing. This cannot defeat the mighty legacy of Milosian Alchemy!_

_*/*/_

**SOMEWHERE IN THE PLANE OF EXISTENCE**

**THE GATE OF TRUTH**

Ed gathered his limbs into a ball; he felt a bit secure with all his body parts close. He couldn't put aside the mental image of some strange sword lopping his flailing appendages in this gloom.

And with all the strangeness he had endured till now, he wouldn't be surprised if the same actually happened.

"What King? What's going on here?" he called out.

_The one that rules..._

_The one that seeks..._

_The one with the all..._

_The one with whom is the all.._

_That one, who is the One?_

"You're harking crazy...just spit it out, what d'ya want with me?" Ed said.

_The descendent of the one who walked beyond long..._

_The one who tried to bring back the gone..._

_The one who saw all that is to be seen..._

_Tell me, who is your king?_

_This is some serious shit,_ Ed thought, trying to find some place of coherence in the unending dark space. _What king? And what is that voice? Who's is it?_

_Tell me, O Alchemist. Have you not wondered why is your country falling apart? And why are your allies involved in aimless skirmishes? Why is it that after the death of Father, your rule is slowly falling apart?_

"Falling apart? Have you gone crazy, Voice-man? We're fine here, thank you very much," Ed snorted.

_Let me rephrase, then. What do you mean by the Gate?_

"The Truth of all Truths, the doorway to the knowledge of the world," Ed replied, slightly startled at the off-track question.

_Hmm...a pretty interesting definition. That is what you, and countless others who have defied the Taboo, have seen. Information at the cost of something precious. But is the Gate just that?_

"Just that?" he repeated, a bit confused.

_This Gate...is the doorway from this world to the next. You can cross into, but you cannot come out. And to prevent people committing the Taboo, there is the Gatekeeper. And the Gatekeeper chooses the One, who then chooses the King._

"The One?"

_Yes, friend of the Gatekeeper. The One._

*/*/

**SOMEWHERE IN THE PLANE OF EXISTENCE**

**THE GATE OF TRUTH**

Al and Alex managed to create a fortress of sorts to protect themselves from Pride's out-of-control appendages. Rei managed to make one portion of the wall into toughened glass which enabled them to witness the events outside.

"You sure you don't want to come in, Travis?" Al asked, slightly worried. The Homunculus was standing just outside the wall, contemplating on the perfect way to attack Pride.

"But I don't understand...will defeating Pride get us back?" May asked.

"I don't know, May," Rei answered slowly, her eyes fixed on Truth. "But it will reduce our worries by a fraction."

Al nodded in agreement. "At least we won't have to worry about a maniac fixated on sacrificing us."

"Travis?" Rei prompted.

"I can say Pride is losing his momentum—either he's getting crazy beyond measure or Truth is choking his alchemy," he replied.

"Choking his alchemy?" Al said out loud.

"Yes, young Elric...and there's something _else_ going on here...I don't know what. But I've got a feeling that we gatecrashed the wrong party," Travis added, sounding worried.

Al felt May clutch his arm more tightly.

"What is it, May?" Al asked softly.

"In Xing, there's a legend about the Gate, something which is like a bedtime story...but now when I think back, I'm afraid it might be true," said May, her face going pale.

"What legend?" Rei asked.

"About the King Candidate."

*/*/

**THE RUINS OF XERXES**

**THE GREAT DESERT**

"The legend of the King Candidate?" Hawkeye repeated.

"Yes, every Xingese child knows the story," Lan Fan said softly. Ling gave a tired nod in agreement.

" _Once upon a time in Tiangong-shi, there lived a boy named Zen Xiang. He was an extremely intelligent boy, clearing all his school exams before he hit his teens. He was hungry for knowledge so he set out on a journey._

_Years later when he turned into a man, he ran into the Great Sage. He was delighted to encounter someone with such immense knowledge so he begged the Great Sage to make him an apprentice. The Great Sage was not eager to do the same but Zen Xiang's persistence won him over and he finally agreed. The Great Sage and Zen travelled all over the East, encountering different people and spreading the knowledge of alkahestry. Zen was fascinated by the entire concept of alkahestry, and so he researched more and more._

_One day when he woke up, he found that the Great Sage had disappeared. He had left behind a note, which stated that he had taught Zen all that he knew, and Zen should know apply his intellect his own way. This saddened Zen a great deal, as the Great Sage had become more of a father-figure to him. But he decided to continue his journey._

_Years later when he was exploring Creta, he met a woman named Lisbeth Flamel. They fell in love and after a brief courtship, they married. Zen finally settled down into domestic bliss, teaching medicine at the local university in Vorstok. Now, Vorstok is in Milos but in those days it was a tiny town in Creta._

_Two summers after their marriage, an epidemic wiped out the better part of Vorstok. Zen tried to help, but he could only do so much. His alkahestry could only minimise the pain, he couldn't save lives. The Cretan military decided to massacre and burn the town in order to halt the epidemic—but an enraged Zen destroyed their ammunition._

_A week later, Zen was the only one not afflicted by the disease. As Lisbeth lay dying in his arms, he wailed at the cruelty of fate and, in an attempt to defy it, he decided to halt death._

_He devised the circle of Human Transmutation and offered himself in exchange for Lisbeth._

_As the Gate opened, he realised how foolish he was. And how pitifully inadequate was his knowledge. He berated the fact that the Great Sage had never told him the existence of the Gate, nor the fact about equivalent exchange._

_And he realised how pitiful was a civilisation without a proper King._

_And thus Zen Xiang ceased to exist, his last words being a prayer of enlightenment."_

"Zen Xiang...in Xingese, _Zhenxiang_ means Truth..." Ling muttered.

"You don't say..." Roy muttered.

"After what we have seen over the last six years, I wouldn't be surprised if this legend turns out to be true," Ling said, wiping away a thin sheen of sweat off his forehead.

*/*/

**SOMEWHERE IN THE PLANE OF EXISTENCE**

**THE GATE OF TRUTH**

"Holy crap...this is crazy!" Al exclaimed.

"Are you saying that this Truth is actually Zen Xiang?" Alex asked, for once soberly.

"No...it's not that," Rei muttered, scratching her chin thoughtfully. Al gave her a bemused look.

"Truth is not a physical being...I'd say that Truth imbibed Zen Xiang's policy. That would explain Father's seemingly uninterrupted reign over Amestris," Rei continued thoughtfully.

"All said and done, why _Father_?" Travis asked.

"Zen Xiang's last thoughts were his realisation and hatred towards the Great Sage—who's Van Hohenheim. So I guess his 'ideal' ended up being Hohenheim's antithesis which is Father," Rei answered.

"Could be," Al concurred. "That would explain why Dad tried to stay away from us...I think he believed that he brought misfortune wherever he went but the truth was, it was his personality that Ziang hated and that was what he felt."

"So what now? How do we get out?" Alex asked.

"We need to convince the bit of Zen Xiang's consciousness that lives inside Truth to finally let go," Travis said, cracking his knuckles.

"No offence, but how _exactly_ are we supposed to do that?" May pointed out.

Al looked around at the white expanse, the dull quietness punctured by Pride's frustration and Truth's cackle.

"That...is a very good question, May," Travis said, a mirthless smirk on his face.

*/*/

**SOMEWHERE IN THE PLANE OF EXISTENCE**

**THE GATE OF TRUTH**

Ed felt some direction to his seemingly aimless "suspension" in the gloom.

_You, alchemist, are not ordinary. You seek the unattainable, but not for shallow gain._

"Just stop speaking in riddles, will ya?" Ed growled, now finally fed.

_You remind me of my erstwhile teacher...he too was of the same temperament. And perhaps, it was unfair of me to uphold that grudge for so long. He had done no wrong...it was I who attempted to transcend boundaries._

This piqued Ed's interest.

"Teacher?" he asked, curiosity winning through the apparent bewilderment of the situation.

_I had a teacher too...he was a good man. It was I who was blinded...though it is too late to act on that realisation. In retribution to what I had assumed was his mistake, I began to exact higher value in exchange for each alchemical reaction he carried out. But I was devious, wasn't I? I exacted the toll, but made it so that if he did not carry out his alchemy, he would be doomed._

"Hang on a second..." Ed gave a low whistle as a piece of memory floated in front of his mind's eye. He was in the guestroom back at Milos three years back, deciphering the notes of Nicolas Flamel.

"The curse...the iron thing. Haemochromatosis..." Ed whispered, the pieces finally falling in to place. "It was _you...you killed our Mom!_ "

*/*/

**CENTRAL COMMAND,**

**CENTRAL, AMESTRIS**

"Major General sir! Your orders!"

Olivier Armstrong sighed as she looked out of the window to the gloomy vistas—it was around eleven in the morning and still the sky showed no signs of clearing. She wondered what Alstenheim and group were doing.

"What is the border status?" she asked.

"Aerugo is neutral, Xing has extended its support, Drachma is silent and Creta slightly hostile," the corporal answered, his hand still in the salute mode.

"Slightly hostile, eh?" Olivier grinned, her teeth a menacing white. "Get the Western Border Corps up in arms...we need to defend Amestris!"

"Sir yes Sir!"

As the corporal hurried out of the room, Olivier couldn't help but feel energised. Creta was confused at the moment—which meant that whatever was happening in the deserts, it was good. Time for their western neighbours to feel the pressure.

"It's time for some old-fashioned border clash! I knew I hated paperwork!" Olivier said, pumping her fist as she walked out of the room.

*/*/

**CENTRAL HOSPITAL**

**AMESTRIS**

"David, are you sure about this?" asked Dr. Rainsworth, looking slightly awed at the precision with which Dr. Matthews was working.

"After Trisha died, I couldn't help but do some research on her disease. Haemochromatosis isn't a very _famous_ disease, if you put it that way. It's mostly because people often fail to read the signs. It takes alkahestry to keep it under control but that too isn't always enough. And alchemists _never_ have this disease for the simple reason being the fact that alchemy utilises the iron present in the body. But what I'm doing is trying to get an alchemic reaction bottled-up in a capsule...if this works, we might be able to save Ed!" Dr. Matthews answered, jotting down the measurements feverishly into his notebook.

"But wouldn't it be a bit too late? I mean Major Elric is out on the battlefield if I'm not mistaken," Dr. Rainsworth said, sounding worried.

"I know Ed...he's one slippery eel. He'll be back. But before he gets back, I need to get the antidote ready. I have sent a message to Dr. Aruo Chang of Xing before leaving Arktown...he is researching the same thing as I am and I believe he'll arrive within a couple of hours," Dr. Matthews replied, grinning.

"You do know how to work fast, don't you doc?" Rainsworth grinned back.

"Seriously, you didn't take me for a country bumpkin now, did you?" Matthews said, adding the ground powder from the pestle to the test-tube.

*/*/

**SOMEWHERE ON THE PLANE OF EXISTENCE**

**THE GATE OF TRUTH**

"Rei?"

"Yeah, what is it, Travis?"

"You know we're in a spot..."

"Stop stating the obvious!"

Travis sighed before sending another wave of rocks flying towards Pride. The giant swatted them off effortlessly, raining the group with dust and bits of stone.

"This will go on forever! We need to find a way to take him down!" May exclaimed as her cage of wires broke before it could imprison Pride.

"I agree! No one's losing any energy here...it's like a cycle," Al groaned, sliding down the protective wall Alex had raised moments earlier.

Al saw Pride stagger slightly.

"Well, Pride's getting wobbly," Al added, looking at Travis.

"Rei?" Travis prompted again.

"There has to be something... _something!_ It's like those 'spot the difference' games...the answer's right in front of you but you still miss it...damn!" Rei yelled, frustrated.

_When confused, close your eyes and force your mind to go blank for a minute. Think nothing, hear nothing, smell nothing. Then picture your sanctuary, feel it. Open your mind's eye to the widest. You will find your answer._

Rei closed her eyes as she felt her teacher Neulahn's words wash through her.

_The feeling of the cool dew on the blades of grass as she ran barefoot...the ripple of water...the smell of apple pie...the breeze ruffling her hair...the sunshine..._

" _The question is always complex, kids," Neulahn said, flicking James' forehead as he surveyed the lone drop of water suspended in the air. "But the answer is always easy. The trick is to figure it out."_

" _That's what makes the question difficult, Teacher!" Rei pouted, the hands crossed across her chest._

" _No, Rei. Pounding your head over something will only give you a headache. But if you lose the screws or poke through the weakest link, you problem will fall apart. Don't you think that is a way better method to solve a problem?" Neulahn smirked before unleashing a wave of sand over the hapless duo._

Weakness...what on earth could be the Gate's...

Hold on a second!

Rei slammed her fist into her palm, her eyes taking on an eerie amber gleam.

"Guys, we've been thinking on the wrong foot...we were trying to find out the solution to the problem but the thing is, _we ourselves are the solution_ at the moment!"

"Um...don't get me wrong but..." Travis began, only to be interrupted by Rei.

"May's story...that Zen guy...he did not _die_ , did he? He was absorbed by the Gate...and this Keeper is kind of his conscience, right? This Keeper is a _soul..._ and he's stuck! So what do you do with a stuck soul?" Rei said.

"Set it free!" Al exclaimed, catching onto Rei's thought process.

"The last time I checked, we weren't exorcists," Travis pointed out.

"Of course we are not. We don't need to be one...the fact is, the Gate is the house of souls, but unfortunately the Keeper cannot go in. I bet it is because unless a new Keeper is found, the old Keeper can't be free," Rei explained.

Al looked at the white humanoid figure which was still grinning at Pride's attempts to engage into battle with itself.

"And I think we've got a perfect candidate for the new Keeper," Al said, pointing towards the giant Homunculus.

"Change of plan...what the—?" Rei shouted, surprised as a body fell on top of her from above.

"Guess I've loved gatecrashing, eh?" Ed said, rolling off Rei.

"Brother!" Al exclaimed, enveloping Ed into a giant bear hug.

Rei got up on her feet, a small smile working up her face. This now was going to be the final battle.

"Ed?" she said.

"I've got it covered...caught the last bit of your explanation. Long story short, I know the Zen story and I agree with Rei. We need to assure Truth that we have got a King's Candidate and the fact that Pride will be a great Keeper of the Gate," Ed added, running his fingers through his hair.

"How's Winry? Did you meet her?" Al asked.

"She's fine...and I owe you one, Travis," Ed said gratefully. Travis grinned back. "I've got your back, Ed."

Ed rubbed his hands as he gave a cursory glance at the one-sided frustrated duel between Pride and Truth.

"Listen...we haven't got much time...Roy's holding open the Gate from the other side and I don't think he's going to last very long. I haven't got any alchemy—Al, Rei and Alex...you guys have to open the Gate," Ed said.

Rei's eyes widened and she turned to look at Travis. The latter gave her a gentle smile. Ed looked confused at their non-verbal exchange.

"She knows," Travis said gently.

"Oh."

"Plan C, isn't it Ed?" Rei asked softly. Ed nodded, looking away.

"Plan C?" Al asked, puzzled.

"Something which I wanted to avoid at all costs," Ed said, scuffing his automail foot. "We force the Gate to open, get Pride in it. But opening the Gate will also connect this space to the passage Roy is keeping open so we will be forced out. But Travis won't be affected...since he's the anomaly in the natural equation."

"The only one who would be able to get Pride inside the Gate...but that's what Pride wants, right?" May said slowly.

"The Gate...it is a very powerful thing. We might study alchemy for another millennium but still we won't be closer to solving its mysteries. So I think we should leave it to the Gate to decide whether it wants to keep Pride," Ed said, staring at his shoes.

"That's the best option, I think," Travis concurred. "Let's get this show on the road, then. You're the alchemist, Rei."

Al thought he saw Rei's form shake for a moment but the next second, her eyes hardened into cold amber shards and her spine was straight. He could feel authority radiating off her.

"I don't think Roy would be able to hold on much longer, let's wrap it up and then...then, we go home," Rei said, her hands forming into fists.

"May, you distract Pride if the need arises. Al, Alex and myself will open the Gate. Travis..." Rei's voice slightly broke.

"I know what to do," Travis said, smiling. "It was fun, working with you guys...I consider it my privilege to have had this experiences—for all practical purposes, I'm a dead man walking. And Rei...thank you. And please, don't mourn...I'm happy. This way, all these souls inside me will finally get a sense of peace."

"Travis...man, you're one big idiot, you know...just like Greed," Ed said, patting his back.

"You were supposed to be Rage and all, but you're just a big softy," Al added.

"And take care you two. Especially you, alchemy nerd. You have people who'd be sad if you pop off all of a sudden, so restrain that sacrificial streak of yours," Travis said.

He walked up to Rei and placed a hand on her head.

"James died that day itself," he said in a low voice.

"I know you as Travis, you idiot," Rei said angrily. "You are YOU! Not James, not Rage but Travis Baker, the mechanic-cum-informer from Western Command."

Travis looked startled as Rei enveloped him in a fierce hug.

"You're a good friend, Travis," she said, her voice muffled in his shirt. "I'll miss you."

Travis was first to break the hug. "Okay...now let's stop the sob-stuff. We've work to do."

Rei nodded, rubbing her eyes. "Damn the dust...they wind up everywhere!"

Ed stood at the front. "Three seconds. As soon as the Gate opens, Travis..."

"You worry about going back, I'll do the rest," Travis said, flexing his arms. "Shall we, Ed?"

"When I give the signal, begin the transmutation," said Ed grimly.

Al, Rei and Alex nodded.

"HEY PRIDE! I DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE SUCH A WIMP!" Ed roared, goading the giant.

"Er...don't you think that went a bit too far," Travis said, looking at Ed in disbelief.

"Oh come on! Don't tell me you never wanted to curse that brat!" Ed grinned maniacally.

"Ah! Mr. Alchemist!" Truth finally stood up, his teeth displayed in prominence. "You've arrived. So, the answer. Do you have it?"

Ed stepped forward, his arms open wide.

"You asked me for my King's Candidate, I say I don't have one. The people rule their own lives, no other person can do that. _I_ can't do that. It's the _people_ who will choose, _not_ me!"

Truth's grin got wider.

"Well, isn't that a good answer, Mr. Alchemist!" It cackled loudly.

Ed nodded towards Travis before taking a deep breath.

"NOW!"

*/*/

**EPILOGUE**

**3 MONTHS LATER**

**ROY MUSTANG'S CABIN**

**CENTRAL COMMAND, AMESTRIS**

" _For reasons classified 'Top Secret' by the Amestrian military, Creta has finally given Milos is complete independence. The Milosian government wasted no time in allying themselves with Amestris, their ambassador Lady Julia Crichton already in talks with the Amestrian-Xingese alliance._

_On homeground, the first ever elections for the Members of the Parliament have been peacefully_ _concluded. Ex-alchemist and current Military Strategy Advisor Edward Elric and_ _the newly promoted_ _Majo_ _r General Roy Mustang_ _the Flame Alchemist are the big favourites from their provinces of Resembool and Dresden respectively. Post the mysterious 'Gloom' Day, great reforms on both political and military front has taken place—the major one being the division of powers between the military command and the soon-to-be-elected Parliament. Needless to say, the citizens are excited..."_

"Lay off the reading, Win. We know," Ed yawned, sprawled over his favourite couch as he chewed on berries Ling had sent over from Xing a few days back.

Winry was sitting near his feet as she read out loud the front-page, now pouting at the pretending-to-be-oblivious-to-the-death-stare blond.

Hawkeye looked up at the duo from her desk, a rare smile gracing her otherwise serious features.

"Don't mind him, Winry. Men sometimes forget their place," she said, cocking her gun innocently.

"Ed, I wouldn't mess with her," Havoc advised as he controlled his urge to reach for his cigarette.

"Yeah right," Ed agreed. Winry made a face as she continued reading.

A couple of minutes later, Mustang poked his head out of his cabin.

"Can you keep it down for a minute? This is my _office,_ Fullmetal! And I'm on the phone!" he fumed.

"Wazzup, Colonel?" Ed asked, flipping a berry into his mouth.

"For the last time, _kid_ , it's _Major General_. And it's our dear missing friend Rei Alstenheim on phone. If you're not interested, you can show yourselves _out._ Otherwise, keep your voices down!" Mustang hissed angrily before slamming the door shut.

Ed jumped up onto his feet, nearly choking on the berry.

"Rei? After three months of disappearance, she calls up _Roy?_ What the hell!" he exclaimed, wrenching open Mustang's cabin door and marching in.

*/*/

Rei Alstenheim replaced the receiver and stood at the window of her apartment. Three months already...time was cruel.

Already, she was missing her office.

After the transmutation inside the Gate area, all of them—except Travis, that is—were pulled out to the place where Roy was almost on the verge of collapsing with exhaustion. Ling didn't look too good himself, and the rest of the team members looked relieved at their arrival.

After ensuring that everyone reached their homes safely, Rei decided to go on her own little trip.

To Ishval. Where everything had begin. She didn't know what she was going to find amid the ruins at the border...perhaps a sense of closure?

The ruins were as she remembered them from the war...broken, formless, desolate. Zar-Al-Anam was just like she remembered a decade ago. The town square...the school building where she last fought...

They stood like sentinels of the time that passed. Unmoving...silent...

After Ishval, she travelled incognito to Aerugo in an attempt to find Kazark's roots as to why did he work for Creta. She didn't find any answer, though she could fathom a number of reasons. All of them warranted one thing—a deeper study into the neighbouring countries and increase in the number of diplomatic visits. The other countries had no idea what alchemy constituted and looked at it with suspicion.

And in such an environment, to brainwash someone wasn't that hard a job.

And when she returned, she realised what she _really_ wanted to do. Her days as the Dancing Alchemist were over. Amestris no longer needed State Alchemists...she needed ones who could uphold the wishes of the people.

She looked outside her window to see the streets. Over the last ten years, she had witnessed the change in the way people went about their jobs—the tension during Bradley's reign, the relaxed look during Grumman's reign. But today, she could see something else.

Hope. A different sort of energy was thrumming in the atmosphere.

Rei decided that she liked this.

*/*/

"What did Rei say?" Ed demanded, slamming his fist in a well-worn dent on Mustang's work-desk.

"She wanted to ask some advice," he replied slowly, resting his chin on his steepled fingers.

Ed gave him an incredulous look. "You?"

Mustang sighed, reaching into his drawer and pulling out a piece of paper.

"She sent me a proposal for the Parliament and some reforms it could bring, provided I get elected. I had asked her to participate as Pendleton's representative but she refused," he said, handing the piece of paper to Ed.

"Read it," Mustang added, pointing towards it. "You'll find it interesting."

Ed skimmed through the writing, making a couple of mental bookmarks.

"Yeah...fine...but what now?" he pressed on.

"Grumman is hounding her to be the National Security Advisor—no one can read the enemy tactics better than her," Mustang replied, wiping imaginary dust from his desk. "Even Armstrong of the North is backing this proposal...but she's strangely reluctant. I'd wager Travis'...well, _death_ , might have shaken her. And quite frankly, I don't blame her."

Ed pocketed the paper, feeling glum.

"I don't blame her either," he concurred, a sad smile on his face.

Mustang stood up, straightening his jacket.

"Fullmetal, can you do me a favour?" he asked, slightly fidgety all of a sudden.

Ed raised an eyebrow.

"It's a delicate matter but this time, I cannot possibly ask Major Hawkeye to accompany me. But if you'd just nod at the right times and keep your mouth shut, you might be of help," Mustang explained, deliberately avoiding to look at Ed.

"Meaning?"

Mustang sighed before answering. "It's Grumman, Fullmetal. This ordeal has taught me one thing—I should not take anything for granted. So I'm going to ask his permission for marriage."

Ed gave him a puzzled look.

"What?" Mustang asked, mirroring his look.

"Hey, it's fine if you have varied preferences but _Grumman_? He's a bit old, don't you think?" Ed asked.

Mustang looked blank for a second before realising what he had stated previously.

"Of course not! You...It's Hawkeye, you idiot! He's Hawkeye's _grandfather_ , remember?" Mustang exclaimed, exasperated as he slammed his palm on his forehead.

"Dear oh dear...someone's getting the jeebies!" Ed teased, quickly dancing out of Mustang's reach.

*/*/

The entire Central Command could hear the screams and shouts punctured with bursts of fire from a certain Flame Alchemist's office. People shook their heads and with smiles on their lips, they continued with their work.

All was well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my reviewers, readers, followers...thank you! My first ever long fic comes to an end...*sniff* My baby grew up!
> 
> I am planning a sequel, tentatively would be titled FOREVER KING. I have a couple of insane ideas for it, let's see which one wins!  
> Well folks, guess it's au revoir for now...
> 
> TILL NEXT TIME, FOLKS!
> 
> */*/Nazrath/*/*


End file.
